Flames in the Art Gallery
by Atlantean Twilight
Summary: The Elric brothers are gone. Roy begins to frequently visit the local art gallery where he becomes known as the 'Cause of Flaming Rage'. May contain artsy language. I did learn something from art class! [Complete]
1. Chapter 1

**This is really short, but the next chapters will be longer. I just started this as a break from life...kinda. Thought it would be a fun idea to play with, and somewhere to make use of some of the concepts I learned in art class, maybe. Feel free to criticize, flame (literally?), whatever!**

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_What would he think of this?_ Roy studied the painting with a false eye of interest. There were two other people standing around looking at the painting, which depicted the Elric brothers, both human. One was a local artist, a chubby man with a curly black mustache. The other, a skinny woman who looked anxious for a closer look. Roy noticed her anxiousness and moved closer to the painting. A second later, he yawned.

The woman's face flushed with anger, but she remarkably retained her composure. Roy was surprised, nonetheless. Usually the people of art bore very furious tempers when tampered with and, with the Elric brothers gone, it was one of the only things he found entertaining. Others in the gallery found him entertaining as well--he gained the nickname "The Cause of Flaming Rage," from the gallery operators and the regular visitors who found seeing a different side to their cocky and confident artists refreshing. It even gave the gallery more business.

Roy lazily raised one hand, as if observing one of the lines on Edward's jacket with his finger, though his face looked dazed. He partially obscured the view of the portrait from the woman. The man had realized immediately who the man was, shook his head and went to the next painting.

A tap came to his shoulder. "Sir," the woman said as persuasively and politely as the combination allowed. "Would you mind moving for a moment so I may observe this art?"

An eyebrow went up, as did the other hand--connecting the line from the shoulder of the jacket to the end of the sleeve. The woman shifted her feet impatiently. "Sir?" she asked again. "Are you deaf?"

An elderly chuckled as they walked past. "He can hear you, dear," the old woman said fondly.

A confused expression appeared on Roy's face as his two hands somehow connected together Alphonse's right hand and Edward's left arm. Blinking in confusion and wrinkling his brows together, he looked closer to see what he had done wrong.

"Sir, can you--" she was cut off as Roy suddenly stepped back and walked away, hands in his pockets and calmly whistling to himself.

"There's the Cause of Flaming Rage, Mama," said a young boy, who didn't appear at all interested in the portrait his mother was studying..

"Say hi to him, dear," his mother said, her eyes not leaving the abstract painting. The brunette boy ran over and tugged at Roy's sleeve. "Hi, Sir," he said, grinning.

Roy smiled, content, and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a lollipop. The boy took it cheerfully and ran back to his mother.

"Are you ready to go home, sir?" Riza asked, she had just arrived ten minutes ago and was waiting by the door.

Roy was still smiling to himself as he walked past her. "I think so."


	2. Flame 2

**Forgot the disclaimer...I do not own FMA. I tried to update yesterday, but fanfiction was down.**

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All the paperwork was done, and with nothing better to do, he left work early, leaving behind a message with Hawkeye. He stopped by the candy store, where the shopkeeper greeted him happily and the children who recognized him begged their parents to go to the gallery.

He purchased a week's supply (two bags full) of candy and walked out, several rebellious kids running out behind him, only to be called back by their parents. He left most of the candy at his small home and changed into clothing ore suitable for a commoner. He glanced in the mirror before he walked out, and saw that one piece of hair continued to stick up. Roy was almost in the right mind to burn it.

He entered the building behind a group of schoolchildren, who weren't too excited to be viewing art. One of the children, a small, blonde girl, decided to wander away from the group to walk beside him. Roy ignored her presence for awhile, then paused to admire the painting of a frog. It was so abstract, it was hard to tell exactly where the frog ended and the background began.

"I'm Emma Lee Rockbell," the girl said, timidly staring at her feet. "What's your name?"

Roy raised an eyebrow and nodded thoughtfully. "I'm Emma Lee..."

"Roy," he interrupted, the frog was beginning to annoy him. He continued on to the next painting. The little girl followed, her pigtails bouncing. Much to his dismay, the portrait was of Alex Armstrong. Roy's expression showed his disapproval.

"Excuse me, sir!" He jumped. It was the same woman from the day before. "I cannot view the art if you're standing in my way!" Her face was red and furious.

"You're an awfully rude lady!" Emma Lee exclaimed, and the woman fumed. "You're not the only one who wants to view art, you know. That's why it's available to the public! If you don't like it, go to your own private gallery!"

The woman didn't like being downsized by a child and stomped away. "Nice job," Roy smiled with contentment as he watched her leave. By the neighbouring painting, the elderly couple were clapping.

"You think?" Emma Lee's face lit up. She was sparkling. "I never seem to get anything right, according to my Mom. She tries to get me all interested in mechanics and that stuff!" her face flushed red and she rolled her eyes.

"You'd rather do something else?" Roy asked conversationally, moving on to a different painting.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. They stopped by a painting of Edward and Alphonse and suddenly she turned animated. "I mean, sure, I like doing the experiments with chemicals when Mom tells me too (They get all bubbly sometimes!) And I would love to act!" she twirled around and clapped her hands. "That would be so much more fun!"

Roy remained staring at the portrait. "Can you act out one of these two?" he said absent-mindedly. He waited to hear something and when he looked, she was holding her breath. She held up a finger and smiled excitedly.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PINT-SIZED MIDGET!"

Roy's eyes widened, and he smiled. The small girl took a few gulps of breath, then visibly relaxed. She folded her hands in front of her, smiling. "Mom told me that one," she beamed. "I can do Alphonse too, but he's much harder."

"Could you please quiet down?" an attractive brunette whispered. Roy just noticed that she was behind them and felt speechless.

"Why?" Emma Lee blurted out. "You're not trying to hear the paintings, are you? They're only a bunch of ink and paper, they don't talk, lady."

Roy turned away to snicker. The woman glared at the small girl. "Sir," she said, she apparently wasn't one of the regular visitors. "Would you please teach your daughter some manners. That was very rude of her to say such a thing about something she knows nothing about!"

Roy faced her and calmly cleared his throat. "She's not my daughter," he said, and Emma Lee laughed. The woman flushed, and walked off. A group of children heard the exchange of words, and ran over as soon as the woman left.

"Cause of Flaming Rage!" called out two of the five children. He handed them candy and they scurried away, happily.

Emma Lee stared at him thoughtfully for a long while. "Cause of Flaming Rage?" she finally asked.

Roy covered his eyes with a hand, then raised one finger, smiling at her through the one eye. He nodded, lowering his hand. The girl's face beamed a healthy pink and she breathed in wonder. "It's like a theatrical title!"

Surprised, Roy grinned. "Yes."

"You do look theatrical, sir," Emma Lee giggled, swaying back and forth on her feet. "With that eye patch. Were you in the wars, sir?"

Roy began to walk over to the next painting, when he heard the teacher calling out to Emma Lee, scolding her for leaving the class. He waved to the teacher, Mrs. Hughes, who smiled at him, while shaking her head.

It didn't feel as much fun without the girls' well-voiced opinions. He stood in front of the same portrait when someone joined him. She was tired, and didn't want to wait by the door this time. Silently, they left the gallery.


	3. Guide 3

**I was awake for about 24 hours already when I wrote this, so there may be a lot of errors. I noticed I copied a lot of them when I typed it onto the computer, so please either tell me if I (or my mother) missed one and I'll fix it, or ignore them, thanks.**

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Roy arrived at the gallery just as work was over, and walking in ahead of him was a tall man, with a black suit, suitcase and small, black mustache. The man stopped at the front desk. The first thing he asked was, "That 'Cause of Flaming Rage' guy isn't going to be here today, is he?" the artist sounded worried. "I have a few really important foreign artists coming to view this art professionally..."

The man continued as Roy examined the piece of art beside the desk. It was a landscape painting, with monochromatic colours of blue. (It reminded Roy of the artists' mood). The man finished.

The woman at the desk had been smiling nervously the whole time he was talking. "Well sir," she said, inclining her head to the right. "Our local celebrity is right here if you'd like to ask him."

Roy pretended not to hear, and went to the newest gallery, one that focused on a type of Ishbalan art. He stopped on the fourth one in. The man had followed and now stood beside him. He coughed. "Excuse me sir..." the man let it trail off, waiting for a reply.

A finger on Roy's left hand raised, pointing to some odd triangular shape on the painting. The man automatically assumed it was a question. "Yes, they incorporate shapes into their art," he told him. Roy's face went dull and his finger went limp in mid-air. "Are you okay?" the man asked, and Roy walked over, finger still raised limply, to the next painting.

Surprisingly, his finger pointed at another triangle.

The man rushed over beside him, crying out, "It's a triangle, sir, now please-" he took a deep breath, "--I really need this and so does this art gallery. Can you promise not to do or say anything when they arrive?"

Roy hadn't answered him. But he had read a name tag on the man's suit before he had returned to the front desk, sulking.

As he pointed wearily at the triangle, he thought of how he would approach this. Usually his actions were completely spontaneous, but this was different. He would have to see what these "really important foreign artists" were like first.

He wandered past the front desk, overhearing that the small group of three artists would be there tomorrow too. To waste time, Roy stood in front of a carefully sketched image of the ocean at night. However, the same woman who had been there the past two nights swiftly dug a tube of lipstick out of her purse and whacked the back of his head with it.

Roy stood stiff for a second, then slowly reached back to rub his head. He slowly trudged to the next painting, where a child ran up to him and he gave him the first piece of candy.

If he had come earlier, he would have caught the elementary class continuing their viewing of the gallery. He thought of this as he looked at a newly-added portrait of a little blonde girl. Signed at the bottom corner in gold ink was slightly illegible writing. It was a portrait of the man's daughter, Emma Lee, at three years of age. It seemed to be the only time he had seen his daughter.

Roy tried not to meddle in any of the affairs of the artists', but as those "foreign" artists walked by behind him with their guide leading them, he decided that maybe, after about two years of coming here, he could and would.

He introduced himself to the three men, who exchanged startled glanced with their guide.

"Ron," Roy said. "Name is Ron. First time here?"

The smallest, a blonde man, shot him a glare, but held out his hand in a friendly greeting. "Edward Spruce," he muttered, flinching as Roy took his hand and shook it a bit too hard.

The other two, taller than their friend and less friendly, whispered to each other. They wore the brightest clothes possible and it all contrasted with their red hair.

"None of your business," said one. The guide was getting nervous and said a few gibberish words.

"We came here to view art, not to make friends," said the second, and both looked at their guide. "Continue."

Roy walked away, waving to the one person that was watching him leave. "Bye, Dave," he called back to the guide lazily, and the behind him, the guide twitched, but didn't look back.

He did enough that night to make the everyday visitors and the children happy. He paused by the picture of the three year old, before heading out. When he came to the door late that evening, he let out a long sigh.

"Sir?" Roy looked up wearily. He held up one finger, shaking it, "Foreign...foreign..."

Hawkeye glanced around the gallery behind him but saw nothing. Roy smiled to himself.

"Are you ready to leave?" she asked, and he walked past her. "More than ready," he said, and planned on getting off work early the next day--even if it meant doing all that extra paperwork.


	4. Companions 4

**The last chapter was the only one I asked my mother to edit, because I was worried that the computer hadn't caught everything, though it looks like it did. Roy-Fan-33, if I have that problem again, I'll gladly send the chapter to you if that's okay. Thanks for offering to be a beta too, but I'll be coming on some very odd hours when school starts in two days and not as much as usual, but I'm going to see if I can get on here at school. (Maybe I can in the art room, then I can ask the teacher any questions).**

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A pile of papers lay on one side of the desk, hiding half of him, as he finished the last one and slammed it on the top, causing the tower to fall. He groaned. Half the tower was still standing, the rest lay on the floor in front of his desk. Slowly he got up and his sore hands picked up the papers. He was done ten minutes later, and left early. He scribbled a note telling Hawkeye where he went, since she was unusually nowhere in sight.

Roy entered the gallery to find the foreign artists closely examining the monochromatic painting by the front desk. One of the taller men had a magnifying glass in his hand, and the second copied down what he said. The smaller one, Edward, looked more distracted with something else. Roy looked and say the elementary students eating their recess in the middle of the hall.

Suddenly Emma Lee's blonde head popped up amongst the group and she ran over. "Roy sir!" she greeted cheerfully. "You're here today!" A small boy ran up beside her, "We heard you gave out candy, do you have enough for all of us?"

Roy looked at the group and smiled contentedly. There were only fourteen other children, he had more than enough. He nodded, and the boy ran excitedly back to his classmates.

"Thanks," Emma Lee said when he handed her a lollipop. She quickly unwrapped it and stuck it in her mouth. "Roy?" Mrs. Hughes just noticed that he was handing out candy. He saluted to her and she smiled it off.

"Roy," Emma Lee popped up beside him when he was finished and moved further into the gallery. "Did you see that painting that arrived yesterday?" Roy pretended not to know and looked at her blankly. "It's over here," she said, leading him to it. In a loud whisper, she said, "It's _me_."

He looked at it, leaned in closer to the face, then pulled out a small pair of specs to have a closer look. Emma Lee giggled. He was poking fun at the foreign artists. "I would have been three," she said, pointing to the paintings' description that was typed on a white sheet of paper hung beside it. "That's probably why I wouldn't remember, right?"

Roy slowly nodded, his eyes locked suddenly on the once illegible signature. "Something wrong?" she asked, looking from Roy to the signature. She suddenly looked disgusted and exclaimed loudly, "I can't read _that_!"

Roy smirked. "Emma Lee!" Mrs. Hughes called. "We're leaving, say goodbye."

The girl moaned, then curtsied. "See you tomorrow?" she looked up questioningly, her eyes wide. Roy nodded and she happily skipped back to her class.

"Well, those foreign artists are interesting," a glum female voice said beside him suddenly. He jumped and turned. It was Hawkeye. She was facing the painting, but her eyes were looking at him. "The 'Cause of Flaming Rage', sir?"

Roy was stunned speechless for a moment. "You were here since--"

"Didn't take any extra assignments," she said, looking at the portrait. "So I was off early. Got a bit curious as to why this art gallery was so interesting," she slowly looked back at him.

Roy was still trying to figure out what to reply when a child tugged on his sleeve. He handed the boy a lollipop and he ran off, calling to his mother, happily showing off his candy.

"I see..." Hawkeye said, watching the child. Roy's face looked a bit unnerved, but he hid it well. Spotting the foreign artists moving into that section of the gallery, he walked away from Hawkeye. As he was walking towards them, the blonde one suddenly saw him and said something quietly to his companions. Roy stopped when he noticed that the man was walking towards him.

Edward walked up to Roy, smiling up at him. "Ron?" he said, hesitating. "Roy," he corrected. "Yes, Roy. I'm sorry," he said, nervously brushing his hair back with his fingers. He dropped his hand and hair fell into his face. "You know that girl, the one you were talking to?" he asked, trying to think of more of a description. "Emma Lee?"

"Not well," Roy replied. Edward slouched, "Do you know her parents?" he asked hopefully.

"Rockbells'." Roy began to feel blunt to the core. But this seemed to be what the man wanted to hear, his eyes lit up in a way that was oddly familiar. But his companions called to him, and the light faded somewhat. "Can I..." he paused, "Talk to you later? Tomorrow or later on?" Roy nodded and he returned to his companions.

The rest of the evening was a bit awkward, as Roy went about annoying artists, yet effectively avoiding Hawkeye and the foreign artists. He even ran out of candy that night, a lot of children had come with their parents. Some had developed an interest in the paintings, and Roy had conversations with a few as they pointed out interesting concepts and ideas, and he replied with meaningless gibberish The children would laugh so hard they'd barely be able to respond.

"Ready to go, sir?" Hawkeye inquired when she spotted Roy sitting on the bench beside the door. He stood up smiling, though he was tired and weary. "Yes."


	5. Shutdown 5

**Sorry for taking so long to update. School's pretty busy, and I just got sick this weekend. I'm going to try to update this one as much as possible, anyway. Btw, if anyone has any ideas for the story, I'd love to hear them! I've been playing around with so many possibilities that I don't know what to do next! **

**Even if no one has any ideas, I'll still update as best I can. (I don't like saying that I won't update unless I get at least three or something to that extent...it sounds rude to me. No offense to anyone intended).**

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He snuck out of work early, a pile of newly acquired papers laying in wait on his desk. He didn't bother leaving a note as he ran out the door.

When he arrived, he found Emma-Lee waiting for him by the doors. "You came!" she exclaimed, and the woman at the front desk hushed her. "Sorry," she said meekly, then started walking. "You don't know what that writing on the bottom says, do you?" she asked. "I asked my mom about it, and she said not to look at it anymore!"

Roy had been following her, but now changed directions. "Hey!" she called, chasing after him. "I know it's my Dad that painted it, that's why Mom wouldn't tell me anything..." she trailed off and tried to redirect Roy to the portrait. "Can you at least tell me if you can read it?"

He lied, shaking his head. She pouted dramatically. "I was hoping you had," she muttered, then saw her classmates. "They wanted me to ask if you had more candy. This will be our last time here," she paused, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a smirk on her face--"unless we can convince Mrs. Hughes to take us again..."

Roy smiled and almost laughed. He went to her classmates and handed out candy. He had brought a few extra this time, just in case. He was ready to wander into the gallery when Emma Lee appeared in front of him, a chocolate bar in her hand. "Can you tell me if you ever find out?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. She returned to her classmates, and he walked away from them. Oddly, he found himself standing in front of the portrait of the Elric brothers again. He was stunned for a moment, when he noticed something familiar about the signature.

"Kind of hard to paint two people you've never met," said someone behind him. "She only gave me a very detailed description and everyone kept asking me how I got them to sit still for so long."

Roy didn't turn around. They walked up beside him, looking at the portrait. Roy glanced at him and saw that he had gotten a bit taller. He glanced down at the man's feet. "You're wearing heels."

"So?" he blurted. He looked very uncomfortable. "You're short," Roy said, and was amused when his face turned red, and tried to refrain from glaring at him. "I'm not short," he grumbled. "You're just tall..."

Right then the elderly couple walked by, remarking, "Why, there's the smallest one of those visiting artists!" Edward twitched, but did nothing else.

"It's amazing I can gain enough patience to paint anything with these people..." he grumbled to himself, nervously moving around and fidgeting. "So...Roy? You said you know..." he paused, looking at something past Roy, "...something..."

Roy, curious, looked. The group of schoolchildren were nearby, and Pinako was there to pick up Emma Lee. "Why do I have to leave?" the girl complained, "Just because pf the portrait!" she snapped, and ran from the group. Hastily, she spotted Roy and hid behind him. Roy side-stepped to the right, and stood behind her. She looked stunned for a moment, then frowned. Her teacher had followed her, and it _was_ Pinako who had come to get her. She didn't want to be mean to her.

_But she would have a battle with her mother when she got home. _Roy thought absent-mindedly. The girl was fuming.

Edward lunged forward, but Roy held out his arm to stop him. Without looking at him, he muttered, "Better to deal with her mother first." The man paused, then stepped back and Roy lowered his arm. "Yeah, you're probably right," he said, staring at the floor. He scratched the back of his head nervously. "She is a bit overly-dramatic--I'd get into trouble."

The woman who had hit him with the lipstick the day before now stood behind them impatiently. Roy turned his attention back to the portrait and nudged Edward with his elbow. "So," he pointed out a random colour. "How long did it take you to mix that colour?"

He looked at Roy like he was insane, then glanced back at the woman whose face was glaring at them. He turned and a mischievous grin hit his face. He folded his arms and moved his feet slightly. "About two minutes," he said, still grinning. "Took three colours: red, blue and green."

Roy suddenly looked at it incredulously and spread his arms out, then pointed to one, small line. "That line is amazing!" he said with an ominous twinkle in his eye. Edward tried to reply, but ended up laughing. Roy didn't know how to examine art!

The woman gave up waiting and furiously searched through her purse. "Yes, it is quite straight, isn't it?" Edward laughed, and both of them were hit hard by the woman's purse.

"Do you have bricks in there?" Edward asked, rubbing the back of his head. She picked up her purse and looked ready to throw it again. He cringed and ran to Roy, who was already at the next painting. He looked at it strangely, then read aloud the title: "Distorted Head of Man."

Roy raised an eyebrow. The painting was red and orange, and through shapes it created what looked like a man's warped head. "Shouldn't it be in the abstract section--" his voice wandered off.

"Found a friend to join your "Cause of Flaming Rage", sir?" Hawkeye appeared on his left. Then she looked at the painting. "And that is?" she asked. Both of them shrugged.

"Edward Spruce," he greeted, simply waving his hand to her. He vaguely recalled Roy's hard grip and didn't tempt fate. She nodded her head. "Riza Hawkeye," she replied, casting a sidelong glance at Roy, who appeared to have dazed off and was staring into space. She sighed. A little girl, no older than four years of age, tugged at Roy's hand. "May I have some candy please, sir?" she asked. Her face lit up when she was handed a small container of candies. She took it happily in both hands. "Thank you sir," she said, before scurrying away.

Roy wandered away from Hawkeye again, and Edward followed him, his other two companions didn't seem to be around. "So you work during the day, then come here in the evening?" he asked, when Roy was finished annoying his next victim. Roy nodded. "Oh," Edward said, "Where do you work at?"

Roy paused for a moment, pretending to gaze at a painting. Then he moved away. "I work in the military," he answered quietly. The man's eyes went wide. "So you're Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist?"

Hawkeye suddenly appeared beside Roy, "I think we'd better head out, sir," she said, a bit of urgency in her tone. She glanced to her right. Military personnel were in the building.

"I guess I'll head out, too," Edward said, looking a bit sheepish. He looked at both of them. "I won't say a thing..."

Roy and Hawkeye managed to slip out before the gallery's alarm went off and the building went into shutdown.


	6. Suspect 6

**Finally! It took me forever, but I managed to update! Thanks to the people who did not arrive to claim the computers at the library before me and sorry for taking so long! School is so aggravating!**

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Roy got up early the next morning for work. The phone rang beside him, they were calling him up for work. He got up to hang up the phone, then quickly got washed and dressed before heading out to work. He arrived about ten minutes later, opening his office door to find Hawkeye standing there waiting.

"Good morning, sir," she greeted. Beside her was a pile of papers upon the desk.

"They called me this early to do more paperwork?" Roy moaned. This wasn't what he had wanted to wake up to, especially not on a Friday. Hawkeye shook her head, "Those are for later, sir. We've been assigned the case at the art gallery."

Roy was surprised, but didn't openly show it. Hawkeye handed him a few papers off the top of the pile. "These explain what happened, sir."

He took the papers and slowly began to read. When he reached the middle of the page, he looked a bit perplexed. "Two of the foreign artists were murdered?"

"And look, sir," Hawkeye said, pointing to the bottom where the suspects were listed. "They've included you and Mr. Spruce as suspects." Roy read the bottom where it simply said: "Cause of Flaming Rage," tall, black hair, annoying.

"So they don't know it's me," Roy muttered. "That's why they gave the case to me…"

"No, sir," Hawkeye said. "Mr. Spruce specifically claimed that he'd only talk to you. He won't speak a word to anyone else."

Roy sighed. His after work entertainment was suddenly turning into a nightmare.

An hour later Roy and Hawkeye arrived at the art gallery, where a few officers were still there, and the building was still under shutdown and had strict security. The two guards acknowledged them and allowed them to enter. They were quickly debriefed by the police, and then were led to where suspects were held.

"We couldn't find the last suspect, the so-called "Cause of Flaming Rage", sir," the black-clad officer said, sounding a bit disappointed. "But all the rest are here."

The room was small, and only a few lights were lit, highlighting the few cheaper paintings that were displayed in the room, most of them abstract art. Roy stood beside one that was an odd mixture of brush waves made to look like a cow to look at the suspects. There were four: the foreign artists' chauffer, an old rival artist, a girl that one of them had had a fight with recently, and Edward, who sat staring at the crimson carpet, even as Roy stood in front of him.

"Have you questioned all of them?" Roy asked quietly of the officer. The man shrugged. "We tried, sir. The girl claims she hadn't seen him since the fight. The chauffeur claims he couldn't do such a thing to anyone who's an artist, and the rival says that he wasn't even in Central when they believed it happened, and the other won't even talk to us, sir," he said. "He asked specifically for you, and that's all he said."

Roy frowned, and looked down at Edward, who had glanced up quickly when he spoke, but had done nothing else. "Are there any other, quieter rooms where I may speak with him?" he inquired quietly of the officer, pretending that he had never been in the gallery before. He knew of a smaller room, one of the three where they restored paintings, and no one could hear what was going on inside the room. They had made it soundproof so the pounding and noises of machines wouldn't bother the viewers or awaken neighbours.

"Yes, sir," the officer said. "One of the paint restoration rooms they've allowed us to use for questioning, so the other suspects won't hear the others and change their stories."

"Good," Roy said, smiling a bit crookedly. Then the smile faded. "Take Mr. Spruce there, will you? I need to have a word with my subordinate."

"Yes, sir," the officer left his side and lifted Edward onto his feet, not even questioning how Roy knew his name. Those of higher rank just knew those things.

Hawkeye was quietly observing the painting of the Elric brothers when Roy found her. "Is there any direct evidence?" he whispered.

"They were hung, sir," she whispered, "in one of the back galleries. It was the one where they moved Emma Lee's portrait to just yesterday afternoon."

Roy frowned. It wasn't exactly something he wanted to hear. That means that it was connected with Edward somehow. But Edward was with him at the supposed time of the murder. He was lucky the short man hadn't said anything. However, if he was charged with murder, Roy might have to reveal his identity as the "Cause of Flaming Rage," something he desperately did not want to do!

Then again, nobody but Edward seemed to recognize him in military uniform.

He motioned for Hawkeye to follow as he got one of the officers to lead him to the restoration room where the questioning was to take place. When they got there, Roy and Hawkeye walked inside, and the officer shut the door behind them. Hawkeye found a piece of wood designed to lock the door, and slid it across silently.

"Hey," Edward said, awkwardly. He looked pretty uncomfortable tied to a chair, his ankles tied together, and feet just hanging an inch from the floor. They were surrounded by small machines, restoring utensils, and several paintings in the works. One of them lay on the table Edward was beside, of a small calico cat sitting on a pile of hay.

Roy frowned and Hawkeye looked at him questioningly. After a moment, he knelt down, looking up at Edward, whose face was now only about half a foot above him. "Do you know anything about this?" he asked, his expression staying firm.

Edward's eyes looked to the olive green carpet. "I had no idea," he replied quietly, then looked up, his shoulders bunching up as much as they could. "They left me at the front of the gallery, said that they had a battle to wage in the back and didn't want me involved…" his voice trailed off, "because they found out about Emma Lee."

Roy nodded. "Did they tell you anything about this…battle?" he hesitated when using the word. It made the murder sound officially planned by both sides. A knot formed in his stomach when Edward shook his head, sadly. "They wouldn't tell me a word otherwise," he said, his eyes beginning to sparkle with water. The pressure of losing friends and then being suspected for their murder was finally starting to take its toll on him.

Sighing, Roy stood up. "I can't promise you you'll not be charged, Edward," he stated firmly, and Edward glanced weakly to the floor. "But I'll try my best to make sure you're not," he paused. "Unless there's something you're not telling me."

Edward looked up, and muttered chokingly. "That's all I know, Roy," he said, quietly, inhaling deeply a shaking breath.

"Sir?" Hawkeye inquired, when after ten minutes, Roy had said nothing but stared at the calico cat on the painting. Finally, he nodded and unbolted the door himself. "I'll be back later," he said, his hand on the door handle, "after I've finished questioning the others. You'll be taken back to the abstract gallery," he said, and Edward nodded before he exited the room. He chatted with the officer outside, who removed Edward from the room, and placed another suspect inside for questioning.

"I don't understand, sir," Hawkeye sounded truly perplexed. It was the first time Roy had ever heard it in her tone, and it made him feel a bit uneasy. "The girl has proof that she was with her parents at the time, so she's off the hook. All that's left is the chauffer, Mr. Anthony, and Mr. Spruce. None of their stories say that they might have done the crime, and we're still waiting for witnesses on their whereabouts."

Roy sat behind his desk, hands under his chin as he stared down at the paper. I was mid-afternoon, and they were becoming exhausted from thinking and going over facts repeatedly. Hawkeye had looked so exhausted that after awhile, Roy allowed her to sit on the couch several times until she finally did. "There has to be another suspect that we haven't thought of, sir," she said, her voice becoming tired. "A killer…"

"Maybe they committed suicide," Roy suggested out of the blue.

"That's not very possible, sir," she said. "There was nothing there they could have stood on and kicked away that could reach them up to that height. Even their families and friends agreed that they didn't have that much upper body strength. They were artists; they sat around painting all day, and then went out for evening runs."

Roy frowned. This really wasn't working, and the officers that were still at the art gallery seemed convinced when they left that their last suspect, "Cause of Flaming Rage", was the culprit.

He sighed, standing up and heading towards the door. "Where are you going, sir?" Hawkeye inquired.

"Getting some sleep," he muttered. "You can too. We'll continue tomorrow."

Roy left the room, leaving Hawkeye in the quiet office that she wouldn't leave until the late afternoon, when her body would become tired along with her mind.


	7. Thunder 7

**Half asleep, and drained from school...I found some time during my free class to type this up! I'm starting to like the library and its free computers. It may not be as good (I forget what happens, wow, I'll have to read it...) I've managed at about one update a week, but I'm trying to make it sooner than that.**

* * *

Roy got up the next morning with a headache, although he had gone to bed early the previous day, the thunder storm that happened to pass by didn't help him sleep. He arrived in his office to find Hawkeye in a similar condition, although she did a better job of hiding it, aside from stifling a yawn. "'Morning, sir," she said, covering her yawn with her hand.

"Nice storm last night…" Roy grumbled, and she nodded in agreement. He took a seat at his desk, where the case papers sat in front of him, just waiting for him to look them over for the thirty-fifth time. Suddenly a thought came to his mind.

"Do you think any of this has to do with the Rockbell's?" Roy asked, his head buried tiredly in his hands. He remembered that Edward had mentioned Emma Lee, but had said nothing specific except that they had found out about her. But that could mean anything!

"Mr. Spruce did say that his comrades had found out abut Emma Lee, but would that be the part that she's his daughter, or did something else happen?" Hawkeye looked dazed, her professional demeanor was still present, but it only made her look more tired.

Roy stood up, stretching and yawning. "I think we should bring the girl back in for questioning," he said, rubbing his right eye. "It may have something to do with that fight she wouldn't tell us anything about."

"It's a start, sir," Hawkeye said wearily, following him out of the office.

They found the address for where the girl was residing with her parents, a small house just outside of Central. It was surrounded by a white picket fence, and appeared like it had popped right out of a story book.

"How original," Roy muttered, getting out of the backseat of the car. Hawkeye followed behind him, leaving the car parked on the side of the road. He walked up to the fence and found it locked, though a young boy sat on the front porch, picking at a blade of grass. The boy noticed Roy immediately, and jumped up, running inside the house.

"Mama!" they heard him yell, because he had left the front door open. "The military people are here, and you locked the fence again!"

A middle-aged woman appeared at the doorway, her graying hair held back in a bun. "Oh, dear," she said, fiddling with a bundle of keys in her hand. She held one out, her hands shaking, and unlocked the fence. "I'm so sorry, sir," she smiled as she saw Hawkeye and added, "ma'am, I'm getting old, I'm afraid, and have a habit of accidentally locking the fence," her face turned slightly red. "From the days of the war, you know."

Roy nodded and the woman ushered them inside. "We wish to speak with your daughter briefly," Hawkeye said as the woman offered to take their coats and give them a cup of tea. The woman threw her hands up, "Oh, most certainly!" She whirled around, and then paused, turning back around again. "Which one did you want to see?"

Roy looked at her a bit oddly. "Your daughter, ma'am," Hawkeye said. "Rebecca Argyle."

The woman's eyes lit with recognition. "Oh yes! Rebecca!" she smiled, making her way through the house, then turning a corner and disappearing from sight. Roy glanced at Hawkeye and raised an eyebrow. "Old age, I'm guessing, sir," Hawkeye sighed.

A teenage girl appeared where the woman had disappeared, the woman closely behind her. "They wish to speak to you, Rebecca, dear," she said, ushering her daughter forward, but the girl stepped forward herself. She stood in front of them, her right knee bent so she appeared slightly tilted to the right, and she folded her arms. "This isn't about Colin and Cobin Ashmore, is it?" she grumbled.

"It is," Roy replied. "You're not a suspect; we just need to ask you a few more questions."

She relaxed and unfolded her arms. "Thank goodness!" she gasped. "What more do you need to know?"

Roy inclined his head to her mother, who understood and scurried away. "One, if the two ever mentioned anything to you about a girl named Emma Lee Rockbell."

Rebecca blinked, and then looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "They did tell me she was cute," she said, pausing. "Um…they mentioned something about her mother, I think…"

"Do you remember what they said?" Roy asked, waiting patiently.

Rebecca ran her fingers through her copper-coloured hair, and then sighed, letting it hang down like a blanket over her face before brushing it back again. "Something about her dating an--Anthony, I think. They didn't want Edward to find out though, apparently he was hurt enough already by her and they told me not to tell," she rubbed her forehead. "Honestly, I thought I'd forget until now."

The girl's eyes wandered aimlessly around the room, and Roy and Hawkeye exchanged skeptical looks. "Would you like to tell us what your fight was all about?" Hawkeye asked suddenly and the girl looked at them with wide eyes. "He was ignoring me!" she exclaimed. "He was all tied up with Edward's problems and art that he didn't have enough time for me!"

Roy held his hands up defensively, an odd reflex that received a strange expression from Hawkeye. "Thank you," Hawkeye said calmly. "Would you mind if we came back to ask you more questions if necessary?"

Rebecca stared at the coat rack and nodded. "No problem."

Roy followed Hawkeye out to the car and slid into the backseat. "So, the Rockbells do play a part in this."

"It seems so, sir," Hawkeye replied, starting the engine. Roy leaned his elbow against the window and held his head in his hand wearily, trying to sort things out. "Let's go back to the gallery," he muttered.

"Sorry sir?" Hawkeye said, glancing at him through the rearview mirror.

"Let's go back to the gallery," Roy repeated, his hand slightly muffling his voice. Hawkeye looked back to the road. "Okay, sir."

They arrived at the art gallery to find Mr. Anthony gazing up at a painting of a foreign cat god. The painting was quite dark, even with the light shining upon it, and featured a statue of the god in front of a wall of hieroglyphs. "Amazing, isn't it?" Mr. Anthony said, acknowledging their presence. "How art can capture such ancient beauties."

Personally, Roy was getting annoyed by crazy artists and resisted the urge to drive the artist mad. If he did, he might be recognized by more people than just Edward. "We need to ask you a couple more questions, Mr. Anthony."

The artists slightly turned; an amused expression on his face. He folded his arms slowly. "Ask away," he said, with a nod.

"We were wondering if you knew anybody with the name Rockbell?" Roy muttered, trying bitterly to hide his annoyance. The artist smiled smugly, "Aw, Winry and her little girl. They bought some of my art, you know. Put it up in the little girl's room. Why do you ask?"

"Confidential," Roy replied bluntly, and the artists' expression altered slightly. The man noticed that he wasn't going to get his way no matter how much he tried. "We heard that you were dating Ms. Rockbell?"

Roy could spot the usual fire of annoyance spark in the artists' eyes. This was not going to be easy… "No," Mr. Anthony replied quite bluntly. "I have been over to her place for a cup of tea and such, but nothing more," suddenly he paused, as if unsure whether to say something or not. "Where did you get that idea!" he suddenly inquired, pretending to look curious and outraged.

"Confidential," Roy muttered, and the artist looked ready to throw a tantrum.

"Please cooperate, Mr. Anthony," Hawkeye said sternly. "As of now we have no direct evidence leading us to believe that you caused the murder. We would like to have your full cooperation and honest answers."

Mr. Anthony looked impressed by her, and glared briefly at Roy, before speaking to her. "I went to her house for cups of tea, drove her daughter to school a few times, and went to get food for them when the little girl was home sick for long amounts of time. I did nothing more," he shrugged. "I only live a few houses away, next to a large farm. I do what I can for a neighbour."

With that, Roy walked away. "Thank you, sir," Hawkeye said, before catching up to Roy.

"We'll have to see about that," Roy grumbled under his breath. Hawkeye blinked, "Sorry, sir?" Roy smiled smugly, looking ahead of him. "Let's go visit Risembool," he said, "And ask these neighbours if he really is a good citizen as he claims."

Hawkeye raised her eyebrows. "You don't believe him, sir?"

"About as much as I believe that the artist is self-absorbed to think the beauty of art only comes from his own paintings," he stated bluntly. Hawkeye looked thoughtful for a moment, then remembered—Mr. Anthony's signature was at the bottom of that painting, so he had been admiring his own work for the past few hours. "I think I see what you mean, sir," Hawkeye said before they were outside and climbed into the car, taking off for Risembool.


	8. Brother 8

**I did it! I lost my voice and got the next chapter done..! (Have the flu). **

**I'm trying to make it progress a bit faster, I've noticed most of what I've been doing is asking questions, so I'm adding more into it. Whether it changes who did it or not, and I still don't know who did it...is the writer supposed to know ahead of time?**

* * *

Roy was asleep when the train came to a stop at Risembool station. A soft nudge came to his shoulder, and Hawkeye whispered, "Wake up, sir, we're here."

The night had passed on the train, and the morning sun was just rising as they were walking off. They stopped for something small to eat, and then headed out to the countryside. Hawkeye had insisted on reporting to the local military office, but was ignored. She stopped asking when she realized that she wasn't getting anywhere, and two, that they were now standing just outside of the Rockbell's automail shop.

Roy walked forward first and knocked on the door. "Sir," Hawkeye whispered. "I thought we were going to ask his close neighbours before…" she stopped when the door opened. The small blonde girl smiled at them, particularly at Roy. "Mr. Flame!" she exclaimed, then bounced back into the house, "Mama! Mr. Flame's here!"

"Mr. Flame…" came a thoughtful voice, then a face appeared. "Colonel Mustang," she said, calmly. Her expression looked slightly disappointed.

"Ms. Rockbell," Roy replied after a long silence. There was another long silence, until Emma Lee piped up, "Well, are we going to offer him tea like the other visitors, Mama?"

Winry paused, and then looked at her daughter. "Would you go prepare a pot of tea, dear?" she asked, and the little girl nodded, running off. "Why are you here?" she asked quietly, once the girl was a safe distance away.

"Colin and Cobin Ashmore were found dead two days ago," Roy stated.

"I heard," Winry muttered. He could tell that she wanted them gone, and quickly. She folded her arms. "I'm busy, Colonel, so if you don't mind…"

"We'll be quick," Roy said with a fast reassurance. "We've heard that you have made a recent acquaintance of Mr. Anothony," Hawkeye continued, "and of a possible connection of this murder with your daughter."

Winry glanced nervously back to where her daughter had run to the kitchen. "That's not possible," she said, "Mr. Anthony only took her to school, and came by for a cup of tea. He was very nice to us," she hesitated. "You don't think he murdered them, do you?"

Hawkeye nodded, "It's a possibility," she said, "Their last words were that they were going to a battle. Does that bring up anything?"

"Battle…" Winry repeated vaguely. "There was an art competition just a few months ago. He called that a battle."

"Did he mention anyone else who was in this competition?" Roy prodded.

She shook her head. "Just Edwar…but," she glanced at the wall clock. "I have to be going, an appointment," she said, before starting to walk out of the room.

"You wouldn't mind answering some more questions later?" Roy asked, and she shook her head. "Please leave," she said quietly. After a moment of silence, Roy followed Hawkeye out of the house.

"I guess that means no," Roy said, smiling smugly with his hands in his pockets. Beside and slightly behind him, Hawkeye looked stressed. "We shouldn't have asked her those questions so soon, sir," she said quietly. They continued walking down the road, not stopping until they reached the train station. "Are we leaving so soon, sir?" Hawkeye asked, looking at the train, where Roy was looking. The train had just come to a stop, and people were beginning to climb off.

"Sir?" she asked again. A minute later, a young man came running up to them. "Wow, sir," the boy said, playfully saluting to Roy with a grin. "You must be the 'Cause of Flaming Rage'!" he held out his hand. "Looks as if my brother gave me an accurate description?" he asked.

Roy nodded, but didn't take his hand. "You're a Spruce?"

"Joseph Spruce, sir," he was still grinning, and the grin was already starting to get annoying. "Edward Spruce is my older brother. Say, is he here? I came to visit my niece--I've been away for awhile—and I thought he might be here," his grin turned sheepish, "I couldn't find him in Central."

Hawkeye glanced at Roy. "You've heard of the incident at the gallery?" Roy asked his voice low. Joseph's eyes lit up. "Oh yes! I've forgotten about that!" he foolishly slapped his forehead. Roy was beginning to see where Emma Lee's liking for drama came from. "Is he still there for questioning?" he asked stupidly.

Both of them nodded, and he laughed at himself. "I'm so stupid…He was right in the gallery the whole time!" He sighed, then looked at the two officers. "Well, I suppose I could go back, but, are we allowed to visit?"

"I suppose," Roy replied, and Joseph jumped around happily, "If you wouldn't mind telling us a few things in return."

"Okay," Joseph grinned, "That's a fair exchange," he looked back at the train and Roy shot Hawkeye a rather annoyed look before he turned back around. "So, are we all heading to Central?" he asked, and when Roy nodded, he grinned again. "Great! Let's go get the tickets!"

Joseph ran off so fast, it took a second for Roy and Hawkeye to realize he had actually run off. "He's going to be a handful," Roy grumbled, then headed towards the ticket booth. "Agreed," Hawkeye said quietly to herself.

Roy had no success sleeping on the night ride back to Central.The young man who claimed to be twenty-one years of age, was running everywhere. Eventually, Hawkeye gave up chasing after him around the train, and sat down next to Roy, exhausted. He smiled at her contently.

"It feels like we're baby-sitting him, sir," she said with a sigh. Roy glanced out the window and saw the reflection of the door open and close. Joseph walked in and sat down, a silly grin on his face. "Sorry," he said, "There's just so many people I've met before on here, so many to talk to!"

Roy ignored him and Hawkeye faked sleep. Joseph blinked at the two, then curled up on the seat and slept. Roy looked at him when he heard soft snores. Oddly, the Spruce brothers were reminding him of the Elric brothers. Was that why he was so tolerant of them? He shook his head, desperate to clear his mind. Gazing out the window at the dark fields passing by, he could vaguely picture the Elric brother's portrait in his mind and then he remembered that the day coming was Edward Elric's birthday.

Halfway through the ride, Roy was startled awake. In his face was Joseph. He looked at him like the young man were mad. Joseph looked sheepish and pointed to his left. Roy looked. The seat beside him was empty.

"She probably went to the bathroom," Roy muttered, ready to go back to sleep. Then Joseph said something he didn't want to hear. "I checked the bathroom, sir. She's not on the train."

Roy groaned, waving him away. "She found someone to talk to! She'll be right back," he was as surprised as Joseph but too tired and annoyed to care.

"Sir!" came a yell, and the door slid open. Hawkeye was standing in the doorway, looking overtired, but professional nonetheless.

"Yes?" he blurted, surprised. Joseph jumped up and clapped his hands, smiling at her like a child.

Hawkeye tried to hide a yawn. "We seemed to have a problem, sir."

"And that is?" Roy looked at her glumly. Hawkeye walked in and shut the door, sighing. "We've just gotten a call from Central, sir," she said, sitting down, too tired to continue standing. "It seems that we have to return to Risembool."

Roy blinked, and she continued, "Mr. Anthony has made a run for Risembool, sir," she sighed again, "He's after Edward, who went to visit his daughter."

"Anything else?" he asked, glancing at Joseph with shifting eyes, indicating that he should leave. The young man looked confused and held his hands up. Roy pointed to the door and he got the idea, quietly walking out.

"They let Mr. Spruce go to see his daughter, sir," she said, "Two military personnel went with him. Mr. Anthony left without a word. We are going by what the chauffeur said he was going to do, sir."

"...And that was?" Roy was getting frustrated with having to urge her report on. Hawkeye muffled a yawn and sleepily nodded, "He told the chauffeur that he wished him dead, that Ms. Rockbell was mistaken into thinking he was..." her eyelids drooped.

He didn't bother to wake her up, he got the idea. Instead, he walked to the door, and found Joseph sitting against the wall beside the door, hugging his knees close. "He meant the Elric brothers', right?" he asked worriedly. Roy didn't reply, so he continued, "when I first came to visit, she kept calling me Alphonse, you know," he said quietly. Roy nodded, "Come get some sleep," he muttered, returning to the small cabin.


	9. Mind 9

**A little odd one for chapter 9 and a little short, but intended to be. You'll see. **

**_In the mists of Biology homework, this emerges..._**

* * *

They boarded another train heading for Risembool on the next stop. The sun was beginning to rise when they stepped foot in Risembool again. Roy walked ahead of the other two; Hawkeye spoke briefly with a nearby officer, and Joseph greeted everyone he knew. Roy didn't stop until he saw Armstrong, standing tall and strong, looming over Edward's small frame. Holding Edward's hand was a smaller figure, Emma Lee. Her mother stood a safe distance away from them.

He walked up to them and stopped abruptly. The silence was awkward. "Colonel," Armstrong nodded to Roy a second before Edward was knocked over by a hug from Joseph.

"Uncle Joey!" Emma Lee exclaimed, looking dramatically in shock. "You're going to suffocate father!"

Joseph grinned, helping his brother back up. Hawkeye arrived beside Roy, "They've spotted Mr. Anthony around the house, sir, and suspect murder attempts. The chauffeur has been proven insane," her whispering paused. "He was placed in the mental ward, sir."

Roy nodded, smiling silently. He was momentarily distracted by Joseph and Emma Lee, who were acting out a part of some play.

"Don't draw so much attention!" Edward whispered loudly to his brother.

After an awkward pause, and the overly-dramatic end of a mighty warrior by a child, Winry walked up to the group. "I have some appointments, can we go?" she said, quietly, but was heard over the crowd at the station.

They returned to the Rockbell's home, and Emma Lee set off to prepare tea while Winry attended to a waiting patient. Armstrong stood in the kitchen, scanning the windows as Roy and Hawkeye walked by, Edward in pursuit.

"What's going on?" he asked, his hands behind his head. Roy glanced at him, but said nothing.

"I know! I know!" Joseph, waving his hands and not appearing calm until he walked beside his brother. Edward shot him a glare. "Sorry, Jo, I was asking the Colonel," Edward said, his eyes to the ground. His brother frowned, and put on a fake smile.

"Can you go see if tea is ready?"

Joseph's face saddened. "But it was done just a minute ago..."

"Serve it," Edward muttered, trying not to sound annoyed, but did anyway. Joseph, like he was used to the treatment, walked away from them without a word.

They walked down the road a bit when Edward said, "There was an accident, with the farming equipment, while he was working at our neighbour's farm," he paused, "He can't get past the understanding of a twelve-year-old."

"That explains a lot," Roy grumbled under his breath. He felt sorry for the kid, and hoped Edward hadn't heard him.

"It doesn't help when my sister still treats him like one!" Edward mumbled, his voice getting louder. Then he sighed. "Sorry. Could you tell me what's going on?"

Roy shook his head and Edward slumped. Hawkeye wandered away from them for a moment. Edward folded his arms. "Then why are you two here?"

"Orders," Roy said, and the front door of the house opened. "Tea is ready!" Emma Lee called cheerfully.

It was after supper when Roy found himself looking out a window, the room and outdoors dark. Mr. Anthony was spotted, somewhere in the woods behind a neighbouring farm. Hawkeye and another officer had gone after him. Armstrong was downstairs playing cards, but keeping an eye out for anyone. The game was mainly to keep Emma Lee and Joseph seated, while Edward watched tiredly from a corner.

"Can I go up and talk to Roy?" Roy heard Edward asked, and Armstrong grumbled, "No."

He looked out the window again. The figure had moved. Roy smiled and stood up. The figure was lucky it wasn't going to rain tonight.

Roy walked downstairs, and tapped Joseph on the shoulder, motioning for him to follow to the back door. Winry glanced up at them from her toolbox as they passed.

"Walk quietly out the door," Roy whispered to him. "Don't do anything dramatic. Act like you are your brother, going out for a depressing late night stroll."

Joseph, wide-eyed, nodded, shooting him a grin before walking out the door. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground, impressing Roy, who raised an eyebrow. He must be very observant of his brother.

Then the figure emerged. They tried to wave Joseph over, thinking him to be Edward, when Roy stepped outside. Oddly, they didn't seem to notice him. Slightly annoyed, he pulled a glove onto his right hand and snapped his fingers. The flame stopped inches in front of them, highlighting their face. Rebecca Argyle grinned nervously a second before the flame went out.

Emma Lee and Joseph were sent up to bed, Winry joined them, answering a plea to be read a book. They tried to get Edward to leave the room, and ended up locking him in an upstairs bedroom, furious, while they questioned a red-faced Rebecca.

"Why are you here?" Roy asked immediately, his elbows laid on the table.


	10. Sparkles 10

**Sorry, I'm running short of ideas...I managed to come up with this while attempting my Global History project during a free class. I hope you like it, I've been getting really depressed lately, it's slowing me down.**

**Sorry I had to heighten the rating, just in case.**

* * *

Rebecca glanced nervously around the room, and pulled a strand of hair behind an ear. Roy waited, his expression quickly shifted from being calm and patient to a creepy glare. Rebecca felt herself jump. 

"I came here to talk to Edward," she replied, staring at the floral pattern on the tablecloth. "And there is a front door," Roy added, glancing oddly at the flowers, wondering briefly why they looked so interesting to her.

"That floral pattern has been passed down in the Armstrong family for generations upon generations!" Armstrong suddenly stood between them beside the table, flexing his muscles. The sparkles threatened to overwhelm the other two occupants of the room.

Roy's expression remained firm, and he calmly ignored Armstrong, though it did explain why the flowers were so large... "Why did you need to speak with Edward?" he asked. Rebecca fingered the outline of a flower, and Armstrong was beaming with sparkles. "His sister asked me to tell him something," she said meekly.

Roy waited, and the sparkles began to fade, unnoticed. "What?" she suddenly exclaimed. "You want to know that to!" Roy smiled to himself and she grumbled in frustration. Her hands were shaking. "She wanted me to see where he was and when he was coming home. She wanted to tell him that his paint was drying up."

Roy blinked. He was becoming amused. "No artist would leave their paint out to dry in the sun?" he stated, all that time messing with artists' benefitting him. But there was something wrong here.

Her face went red. "That's all she told me!"

"And you couldn't gather enough courage to come through the front door?"

Her lips moved, but nothing came out at first. "I wanted to avoid you," she said, looking from Roy to Armstrong. The tall man had found a full-length mirror from somewhere and was gazing at his muscles and sparkles. Roy frowned. He had run out of ideas.

Slowly, he stood up. "You'll be staying here tonight and coming back with us to Central tomorrow morning," he stated, and her jaw dropped. "Are you kidding?" she cried, "I have to be back to--"

Roy raised an eyebrow. It made him look eerie, with the small light and the eyepatch. Rebecca bit her tongue. "Nowhere," she said quickly. Roy inclined his head slightly and led her to one of the rooms for patients. There was only one patient staying overnight, and Joseph was in another bed. Roy let Armstrong stand guard for now--trying to disregard the fact that he had brought the full-length mirror upstairs with him.

Before he reached the top of the stairway to head down, he heard a low creak accompanied by a loud snap. Slowly, and with a gloomy expression, he turned and a door swung open. Edward grinned sheepishly at him in the dark, a few tools and bits of metal around him. Roy turned and descended down the stairs.

He heard Edward run to catch up. "Why is she here?" Edward asked, referring to Rebecca. "Did she say anything?"

At the bottom of the stairs, Roy faced him. "Do you know anyone in this house who would have access to any type of drug or stress-relieving medicine?" he asked and Edward's eyes went wide. Slowly, the blonde looked up the stairway.

"Major," Roy said, even more sternly this time. Still, Armstrong tried to impress the Spruce brothers with his family heirlooms. "Major!"

Suddenly Armstrong saluted. "Go to sleep, Major," Roy said, making sure his voice was loud. The major nodded, went to the first bed he came to, and lay there with his eyes wide open. Joseph was freaked out by him, and forced his eyes shut, only to have them open up again a second later. He cringed and cowered behind his brother. "What's wrong with him?" Joseph whimpered, sounding childish for his age. Roy smirked. "I'll tell you when I get back. Keep an eye on them."

He walked quietly in the hallway. _"There's some ecstasy in Winry's room," Edward said, shifting his feet uncomfortably. "Behind a stack of paintings in her wardrobe. I don't see...why would she put some in Major Armstrongs' meal?" _He had said the last sentence as if waiting for a confirmation of his suspicions, but received none.

_"Do you know how she obtained it?" Edward shrugged and quoted, "'Came with the paintings'."_

Winry wasn't in her bedroom. She was up late, working on some automail adjustments for the patient who was having difficulty sleeping. Roy walked into the room, not turning the ceiling light on, but a nearby lamp instead.

A terrible feeling weighed on his shoulders as he opened the wardrobe. All he had to do was question Winry, and if she didn't cooperate, then search. He stretched out his arms, trying to get rid of the feeling, then knelt down and looked into the wardrobe. He glanced back out and saw Joseph standing in the doorway. Not doing anything, just standing there. Roy peered back in and saw the first painting, monochromatic mountains painted in cold colours.

"It's not there," Roy almost hit his head on a board as he his head out. He looked at Joseph, who suddenly appeared his age.

Roy smiled. "You know more than you let on." _Why put it in Armstrong's and not mine?_

"I hoped you would listen," Joseph said. He shut the door quietly behind him. "Everyone thinks I've the mind of a child, so they refuse to believe a word I say."

Roy stood up, taking note of the glove still secure on his right hand as he closed the wardrobe doors. He turned, smiling smugly. "Alright then. I'm all ears."

He hesitated, then walked over to Roy. He took Roy's right hand, and received a scowl in return. "Simply put, sir," he said quietly, staring at the alchemy symbol on the back of his glove. Slowly, he dropped his hand. "I'm the one responsible for the deaths of Colin and Cobin Ashmore," he barely whispered, looking weakly at Roy. "I did it to protect my family."

Roy frowned, allowing a long silence before he muttered, "You didn't do this."

Joseph looked hurt and objected, "I did..."

"You may have played a part, but you're not responsible," Roy interrupted, then held up his gloved hand, ready to snap, and Joseph silenced. Roy glowered at him. "I don't want you to mention this ever again," he grumbled, then left Joseph alone in the room.

_There is something wrong here, what is it! _He spotted Edward standing in the doorway of the other room, watching the inhabitants, then glancing at Roy as he passed. Roy avoided eye contact.

_What's taking Riza so long? _he thought as he wearily walked down the steps.


	11. Passport 11

**Thanks so much for the review! I was beginning to feel a bit in my own world!**

* * *

The train came to a slow halt. The doors opened, and Roy led the group of four behind him. Armstrong had recovered on the ride to Central, and the mirror remained on the storage racks above their seats. Edward sped up to walk beside Roy, then Roy stopped, just before stepping off the platform. Edward almost fell off the edge.

In front of Roy was Hawkeye. "Good afternoon, sir," she said. Roy could tell by her expression that something was wrong. "Any other news?" he asked, with a smirk on his face. Armstrong walked past them, gently pulling Rebecca and Joseph with him.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Edward called, and Roy recalled the phone call to Armstrong on the train.

"We found Mr. Anthony," she said, quietly, and they walked from the platform. "They want Major Armstrong to being Miss Argyle and Joseph Spruce to the gallery for questioning."

"And where are we going?" Edward asked, he looked very annoyed, a familiar expression that made Roy smile. Hawkeye just glanced at him.

"Where are we going, lieutenant?" Roy echoed, though more quietly and with less annoyance. Hawkeye frowned. "I'm to take you and Mr. Spruce back to Headquarters, sir."

"Why?" Edward asked several times along the way. Each time he was ignored.

Roy opened the door to his office. From the expression on Hawkeye's face, it wasn't going to be pleasant. And she wasn't to go into the room. Edward hesitantly followed behind him. There was an older officer, a Brigadier General, whom Roy didn't recognize, standing in the middle of the room. He paused by the door, and the general told Edward to close the door.

As soon as it was closed, water fell from the ceiling. Roy smirked, but it was more of a snarl. "I see, you installed water sprinklers," he paused, not able to hide the annoyance showing in his eyes.

The general chuckled, and revealed his hands from behind his back. One held a lighter that's flame quickly went out. "How observant of you, Flame Alchemist," he said, with a teasing expression, "or do you prefer to be called the 'Cause of Flaming Rage'? I never thought you to be the artsy type, Flame."

Roy didn't look beside him, but he could sense Edward boiling. There was no use denying it though, too many people had seen him in the gallery, in uniform or not. Just what to do now? Roy waited for the general to continue. He wasn't going to prove or disprove anything for him, not right away.

The general frowned. "You probably haven't heard of me, Flame, I don't get out _too _much," he paused, grinning as he held up one of his gloved hands. "My alchemy works much like yours," he snapped his fingers, and long branch of wood popped out of the wall behind him, missing Edward by mere inches.

Roy looked calmly at the mutated piece of earth. "Earth Alchemist," he guessed.

"Brigadier General Dan Strasbourg, the Earth Alchemist," he announced, and with a wider grin, snapped his fingers.

Roy pushed Edward out of the way, the stake piercing the wall just behind where Edward's head had once been. _That explains the water..._ Roy thought.

"I hate rainy days," Roy grumbled under his breath, hoping only Edward would hear and get the idea. He couldn't tell whether he did or not. Then the smaller figure sped past the general and behind Roy's desk.

The general turned slightly, amused, and Roy slumped. He had no idea what Edward though he was doing.

"Got it!" came a shout a second later and the sprinklers shut off. Roy grinned this time, highly amused. The general didn't look very pleased, nor comfortable. Roy pulled out his gloves, lucky that at least the left one was dry, and slowly put them on as stakes missed him narrowly. The last one came straight for him, and he snapped his fingers. The stake exploded just a foot away from where he stood. The flames extinguished themselves in the soaked carpet.

The general was grumbling when the door opened. Hawkeye peered in, and she smiled. "Sir?" she said, a second before the general stumbled past her.

"What was that all about?" Edward asked, sitting on Roy's desk chair. Roy walked over and peered under the desk, where Edward had hid. The floor was torn up and one of the water pipes had been diverted elsewhere.

Hawkeye saw what he was looking at, but said nothing.

"Just an old trick I know," Edward said, grinning sheepishly, but nonetheless appearing pleased with himself. "Used to do it all the time at school. To get out of class, you know."

Neither replied. Roy looked questioningly at Hawkeye, who glanced back uneasily.

"Where are you going, sir?" Hawkeye asked, trailing Roy and Edward as they left the building. Edward looked just as confused as she was. "Yeah. Where are we going?" he asked.

Roy stopped at his house and walked inside. Edward followed, while Hawkeye lingered at the door. "Sir?" she called.

Roy appeared in the entryway a few minutes later in commoner's clothes and a sack on his back. He stuffed two passports into his pocket from the desk in the hallway.

"You're not planning on going back to the art gallery," Edward muttered, looking at Roy in the mirror and not noticing the passports.

Roy smiled smugly, and shrugged. He turned to him, "We're going to visit," he said simply, pulling up his hood before walking outside. Hawkeye sidestepped in front of him. "Sir," she said with a bit of urgency.

"Lieutenant," Roy greeted, circling around her. "Sir!" she called, catching up to him. "If you continue running, they'll think for sure that you and Edward committed the murder."

Roy smiled to himself. "We'll be fine," he replied quietly, when Edward appeared beside him. A few minutes later, Hawkeye stopped walking with them. Roy turned briefly and saw her running in the opposite direction.

"We should go get Joseph--"

"Joseph will still be there when we get back," Roy muttered, trying to get him to be quiet. They sat on a wooden bench on the platform, along with several others. Roy had used a fake passport, one he had created a long time ago, but hardly used, to get himself a ticket. The one he had given to Edward was the one that used to belong to Edward Elric, but was left behind with the rest of his belongings when the Fullmetal Alchemist disappeared. The photos did look remarkably similar, and Roy was personally glad now that he'd kept it, it saved him a lot of trouble.

In ten minutes the train was about to arrive when Roy heard footsteps coming from behind him. Edward looked before he did, and appeared surprised. "Lieutenant...?" he began.

"Sir," she said, dressed in traveling clothes, a small sack and purse slung over one shoulder.

"Are you certain you'd like to come, lieutenant?" Roy said, appearing calm, but was very startled by her sudden arrival.

"Yes," she nodded, then took out a ticket and passport from her purse. "I'm certain, sir."

Roy looked briefly at the passport and smiled. It was also fake.

"Why a ticket there?" Edward asked, pointing to the location on the ticker. The train could be heard in the distance.

"Your sister lives there?" Roy smirked, amused to see Edward gulp. The train came to a stop, and they boarded.


	12. Bookworm 12

**The result of being bored during frees and somehow obtaining a faster typing speed...It's getting closer!!! Or maybe Roy is?**

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The train ride was long and the landscape outside gradually changed from city streets and town buildings to endless fields of fresh grass. The leaves on the trees were just beginning to fall, and one blew inside the open train window, smacking Roy on the face. He grumbled, and tossed the leaf out the window. He stuck his head out and smiled to himself when he saw the leaf hit a passenger a few seats down, an unlucky fellow who had happened to be sleeping with his window down. 

"How long, now?" Edward grumbled, he was getting tired and bored of sitting on the hard benches of the cabin. Across from him, Riza was reading a book she had purchased at the last station they had stopped at.

"A few hours, at most," Roy guessed, though he really had no idea. He had never been to this place before. It was past the Eastern countries, and hadn't really been discovered by anyone from their state. Edward's parents had happened to be some of the lucky few able to move there to be exposed to the new culture.

Riza glanced up from her book. "Richard," she said to Roy, using his false name. "Let him off the next stop, to stretch."

Roy sighed. He hadn't let Edward off for the fact that someone might recognize him, or mistaken him for Edward Elric. "I suppose," he muttered, "as long as he stays out of sight."

Edward shot him a glare; lately he felt that Roy didn't trust him. "That's what you said before the last stop!"

"Well, Lisa can go with you," Roy muttered, glancing at Riza. "Just stay out of sight." Beside him, Edward grumbled under his breath, saying a few words not worth mentioning. Roy ignored him, feeling weary enough from the past few day's events, and with the murder. He still didn't know who did it, and the fact that the book Riza was reading was a murder mystery just bothered him more. She was more worried about the case than he was, yet she was reading murder mysteries… He was nerved up enough about it, and didn't have to be constantly reminded whenever he looked at her and saw the book's title: _Murder at Artsville Inn_. Surely, she could have picked something better like a _fantasy_ novel.

"Richard?" she said, noticing that he was glowering at her book. He looked up and blushed, startling her. "Nothing," he muttered, sticking his head back out the window just in time to see the grumpy passenger behind him shoot him some very obscene hand signals.

At the next stop, Riza got off the train with Edward, while Roy waited for the food cart to arrive. When it did, he got a chocolate bar, just a few minutes before his companions returned. Edward looked angry. "Why didn't you get us one?" he exclaimed, sitting down on the seat and folded his arms stubbornly. Apparently, from Riza's expression, she hadn't let him buy any candy at the station.

The whistle blew and the train began to move. Edward ran out of the cabin, running for the food cart. "He must be really hungry," Roy muttered. Riza shrugged and continued reading. Another book sat beside her, and Roy looked at the title. _Murder at Artsville Inn Pt. 2_. "Part two?!" he exclaimed.

Riza looked at him curiously. "It's a trilogy," she replied, shutting her mouth before she could say "sir." Roy sighed, the book still in his hands. He suddenly had the funny urge to throw it out the window, but that might not make her too happy. Besides, she bought the expensive books, not him.

"I can't believe it!" Edward exclaimed, returning an hour later. "They ran out of all the good food!"

"By that you mean candy?" Roy asked. By then he had become bored enough to actually start reading Pt. 1 of the murder mystery which Riza had finished. Edward frowned at him, and sat down, his hands on his chin, leaning forward. He was staring at the chocolate wrapper lying on the window sill, threatening to blow away any second.

"I'll get you some chocolate on the next stop," Riza muttered, turning a page of her book. Roy was startled and looked at her calm expression. Oddly, he felt a bit jealous, but tried to erase the feeling.

"How many stops are left?" Roy asked, trying to get his mind off things a bit. It was nearing evening, and the sun was setting behind them. Riza glanced up from her book briefly, as if forgetting he was there. "Four," she replied.

At the next stop, Riza got off the train and came back quickly with a bag full of food. She handed Edward the bulk of the chocolate, and gave Roy one because his expression looked like he was trying hard not to sulk. The rest of the food was apples and bread, which she sat on the seat beside her. Then she drew out another book. "Part three?" Roy asked, without bothering to look.

"No, actually…" she paused, and then handed the book to him.

The cover said: _The Death of Corbin Jones by Cecilia Spruce. _Roy's eyebrows rose and glanced from Riza to Edward, who was stuffing his face with chocolate. He vaguely thought that Riza should have brought napkins too.

"She wrote a book?" Edward asked. After he had finished eating and had cleaned up, Roy had shown him the book. "I didn't know she wrote books. Then again, I haven't really been home in awhile."

Roy frowned. Riza was still engulfed in her novel. Edward handed the book back to him, and then curled up on the bench, falling asleep. The moon was high in the sky by then, and Roy yawned. Across from him Riza muttered, "Go to sleep, s…" she stopped herself again. Roy smiled and leaned his head against the window to sleep.

The next morning, they were awakened as the train stopped one stop away from theirs. Roy drummed his fingers on the windowsill, glancing at Edward beside him, who was staring zombie-like at the floor. Riza fixed her hair a bit, and then continued reading. Out of curiosity, Roy stuck his head out the train window again. The grumpy passenger was still there, and started swearing at him. Roy picked up the chocolate wrapper lying on the sill and allowed the wind to catch it as the train hit a turn. It hit the angry passenger square in the face. Roy climbed back into the cabin satisfied, and Riza looked at him curiously.

It finally reached their stop. They got off the train and Roy and Edward stretched. Riza waited at the edge of the platform until they joined her, then they walked through the station into the small town. They walked until they reached a small yellow house. Edward stopped in front of them, and opened the front gate. "Hey, Cecilia!" he called up, walking towards the door.

Roy caught a glimpse of a blonde girl looking out of the upstairs window. She didn't look very happy. Then she opened the window. "Edward, what took you so long? I sent Joseph after you, where is he?"

Edward winced. "He's still at Central," he replied, and the window slammed shut. Edward slowly walked up to the door, and tried to open it, but it was locked. "I'm coming!" they heard an aggravated shout from the inside. Then she opened the door. "Get in here," she grumbled, holding the door wide open. The trio stepped inside and the door slammed behind them. Roy glanced at Riza. By her expression he could tell that she also thought this was going to be a mess.

Cecilia Spruce allowed them to say, believing them to be Richard Honda and Lisa Sparrow, a couple of artists Edward had met in Central. They were given two rooms upstairs, and they went upstairs to place their few belongings there. "S...Richard?" Riza said, standing in the doorway of Roy's room. He had been in his room for a long time, sitting at the small table by the window. His arms were folded on the table and his head down. He grumbled something, and she went to sit across from him.

"Roy," she whispered quietly, leaning over to him. "What are you looking for here?" She waited, and Roy could sense an uneasiness. He slightly raised his head, waved at her lamely, then his head fell back down. "Roy..." she said even more quietly. Roy raised his head up again. "Yeah?" he muttered.

"Are you looking for something here?" she asked, biting her tongue before she added "sir." She sat back down in her seat.

Roy yawned. "Maybe," he muttered. "I dunno."

"The book?" she asked.

"Didn't know about it," he grumbled. "It's a book."

"Richard..." Riza said a bit uneasily, spotting Cecilia walking past the doorway with an armful of clean sheets.

"You want an explanation?" Roy muttered to the table. Her head shot up and she nodded, "Yes."

"I wanted to meet that grumpy guy on the train and hit him with chocolate wrappers."

Something hard hit his head, and he looked up, aggravated. "What?" he blurted and Riza sighed. She looked at him wearily. "You're exhausted," she muttered, shaking her head.

Roy just stared at her like she had three heads, then noticed as she placed something back onto the window sill. She had hit him with a hardcover book. He groaned inwardly until he read the side of it. _Walking on the thin line by Cecilia Spruce_. He jumped up and grabbed the book. Riza looked at him oddly. "What is it?" she asked, though he could tell that she thought he was losing it. He opened the book and read an inside flap of the plastic covering.

_Gary Spearing was an average painter, struggling hard to improve his skills. He had to compete against only the best. Frederick Gale decided to teach him, and he was confronted finally by a rival: Kyle Simons, award-winning artist, also being taught by Gale. Entering a art competition where the stakes are high, Gary faces his greatest challenge yet–a challenge that will decide whether he lives or dies._

Roy frowned. He wasn't impressed by the summary. Whoever had wrote that summary wasn't very good. Then he noticed Riza reading the book over his shoulder and stiffened. She took it as a sign that he was finished and took the book from him. "I think we've come to the source of the mystery," she said quietly.

"Come on, you two!" Edward yelled in the doorway. "Didn't you hear me? It's time for supper!"

Roy took the book and put it down next to his belongings, and, shrugging to Riza, followed Edward to the dining room.


	13. Ancient 13

**This chapter was actually collecting dust...oops... (Unproud Procrastinator).**

**I'd really like to hear what you guys think so far, if you wouldn't mind reviewing.**

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Two days later

Roy had his hands in his pockets and sack slung over one shoulder, walking along the edge of the road in a straight line. A truck filled with hay chugged past. Riza glanced at the driver.

"Roy, I think we should go back for Edward," she said a second time. Still, he stared at his feet as he took each step. "It's not safe for him to stay there."

Recently, Roy found her to be getting very opinionated. Whether that came from the fact that she no longer called him 'sir' he was uncertain. It made him feel a bit uncomfortable. All of this was wrong! He should be back at Central, investigating a murder, not lost on some never-ending road in one of the far Eastern countries. Where was Black Hayate anyway? Roy thought about asking, then decided not to. Maybe later. Riza slacked behind a few steps, and pulled a book from her pack.

"Never thought you were one to steal," Roy muttered, reading the book spine. He felt like he was walking rhythmically, and would give anything for a bar or shop to turn up--he was dreadfully thirsty!

"Sometimes the military can get away with such things," she said with an air of confidence, calmly flipping through the pages to find her spot.

Roy smirked. "You're forgetting," he pointed out. "We've probably been fired and charged by now."

"You're the suspect, sir," she said, mockingly. "Havoc informed me of a superior officer who wanted me to keep watch over you and Edward."

Roy felt stunned, and his face showed it. Then he sighed. "I should have guessed..." he grumbled to himself. "What was that?" Riza asked curiously, and then she looked back at her book and her eyebrows raised. She paused in her step. "Roy, take a look at this," she was barely heard by him. A jeep drove by when he peered down at the book, spraying some dust at them both. Roy snarled after them in disgust.

A rather short figure was in the illustration, his face in shock at a knife sticking out of his stomach. A tall man standing in front of him in a long dark trench coat was grinning, his face hidden by a large hat. His hand on the knife's handle. Riza laid a finger on the page, pointing out something behind them. It was an outline of a portrait, one that was very familiar. Roy frowned. "The Elric brothers."

"Shall we go back, sir?" Riza asked, closing the book.

"Let's go," Roy said, turning back to walk those many miles again.

Before reaching the house, struggling with each step and exhausted, they stopped at a small café for food and drink. Roy vaguely recalled, as he drank the water, the military officer who had arrived at the Spruce's house. Edward, not recognizing the officer in everyday clothing, had locked him out and refused to let him in, it had been so early in the morning. Then his sister had awoken, saw the officer waiting impatiently outside and snapped loudly at her brother. Apparently the officer was her fiancee.

The officer had immediately recognized Roy, and ordered him and Riza to leave after showing them that he was of a higher rank than themselves in their state military. If they didn't leave, he would have to report them.

Roy smirked. And here they were, coming back. "Is something amusing?" Riza asked, but wasn't surprised to not receive an answer and continued to eat.

The Spruce's house appeared in sight. A broad-shouldered figure was standing in front of the gate, waving his arms and calling up to the upstairs windows. As they got closer they could hear him more clearly.

"I know the little boy's in there, bring the lad out!" the man cried and Roy froze when he saw the man's face up close. It was the man from the train! He frowned as the man almost hit him with a waving hand. He didn't seem to notice that they were standing so close to him, and Roy felt a pang of annoyance. A sudden urge to push him over overwhelmed him for a second.

"He's busy painting!" Cecilia snapped. "Now take your drugs and leave, Wyatt! I mean it!"

Roy looked from the fuming Cecilia to the equally fuming man, his eyebrow raising.

The man shook a heavy fist at her. "You promised me!" Cecilia glared in response. "He's an adult, and I promised you nothing! He makes his own choices," she paused. "You want him, you come in and convince him yourself. I'm not unlocking the door."

"Wench!" the man cried, just as Riza leaned over to whisper something into Roy's ear. "That's the chauffeur, sir," she said. Roy looked startled and pointed weakly at him. "I hit him with candy wrappers..."

"That was YOU!" the man yelled in a surprisingly thunderous voice. He pounded his two fists together.

"Hold it! Hold it!" Edward called out, his small figure appearing beside his sister at the window. "Don't get angry at the Colonel," he said weakly, then his expression brightened as he looked at Riza. The man looked the same way and visibly slouched.

"Stay where you are," Riza said from behind him. When he turned, he saw a gun pointing over his shoulder and walked a few steps to the side. He looked back at the man, who was rolling his eyes, trying to appear as if it were an everyday occurrence. "Come on down, Edward!" he called, only to have the gun pointed at his temple.

"You'll be returning to your hospital, Mr. Moore," Riza said, authoritatively. Edward stuck his tongue out at him. Below, the front door opened and closed, and a man walked up and leaned on the front gate. "I'm afraid you won't be taking him, Lieutenant," he said calmly, and Roy was already irritated by his presence.

"Excuse me, sir?" Riza said, not lowering her gun. Roy stepped in front of her, "He's a suspect for murder, General."

"Ah, but that's no longer your problem, 'Cause of Flaming Rage'," he waved them down from the window. "Come down, Edward, you are leaving with this man."

"In your nightmares," Edward grumbled, staying where he was. Cecilia shot him a glare and slapped the side of his head. Riza looked back at the General. "Edward is my charge, sir."

"Lower your gun, Lieutenant Elizabeth Hawkeye," he snapped, and she lowered it out of surprise. He glowered back at the window at the blonde. "Quit slacking!"

Edward glowered back. "I'll come down. But I'm leaving with the Colonel and Lieutenant!"

"He says you go with Wyatt, you go!" Cecilia snapped at him as he disappeared from the window.

"Come on down, lad!" the man called, spreading out his arms. Roy walked up behind him and pushed his head as hard as he could. Luckily, the man fell to the ground. "Looks like your nickname's true," the General muttered and Roy frowned at him. The General looked at Riza. "Go inside the house or leave Lieutenant."

"I'm afraid I cannot abide, sir," she said glumly. One of the first orders she had disobeyed. Roy was so surprised, he didn't see the fist swing at him, hitting him hard to the ground.

-

_I should have saw that coming. I should have saw it...why didn't I see it? Oh yeah...Riza disobeyed an order. That's not new...it couldn't be..._Roy tried hard to try to remember another time where Riza had disobeyed an order, but found none. He didn't know where he was. He wrung his hands together in the dark room illuminated by a single bulb. He had awoken there with a bad headache, and had eased onto the tall stool in the center of the small room. He had tried feeling around the walls for a door, but was unsuccessful in finding one. He guessed an hour had gone by when water landed on his head.

"Thought you might have wanted a drink to cool down your rage!"

Roy looked up and silently groaned. It was a long way up, and the General was laughing at him from all the way up there. "How's the weather underground?" the General chuckled, even though he was leaning _over_ about halfway above him. After a quick calculation, Roy guessed that he could probably aim his fire at the above walls and burn them down. Then maybe leap off the stool onto the floor or ground or whatever was up there. Then the General began soaking the walls, then shut the top down.

_Why aren't I getting angry? _he wondered, then answered himself as he tried to lean back. "I'm just getting too old for this..." he muttered, then his voice rose a second before he fell backwards off the stool. He sat up with a really sore back.

Roy stood up, rubbing his back. He took off his overcoat, draping it over the stool and stuffing his gloves into his pant pockets. He rubbed his hands together, then tried to grip his hands on the wall, slowly climbing up, then sliding down to land on his bottom. He sighed in silent frustration.

Looking back up at the ceiling, the bulb flickered on the side wall above. _Where are Riza and Edward?_ he caught himself thinking, then tried climbing again. He only succeeded in hurting his back even more. He glanced at his State Alchemist watch and waited. After three hours he ran around touching each wall, then his hand landed on the last one. He smiled to himself. It was about dry. He slipped on his right glove and carefully aimed. The water was spread quite neatly. The cover and top of that wall burned down to ground level slowly, where the wet grass extinguished the small flames.

He pulled back on his overcoat, and stood on the stool. Then he jumped, landing up to his shoulders, the slid back to his elbows. "Colonel?" came a loud whisper. Roy looked up and slipped down a bit further. Edward was standing in front of an unfinished painting looking at him curiously. Then he hustled over, pulling his out. "Honestly," he said wiping his brow once Roy was out and laying face flat on the ground, why he didn't know. "I thought the General took you to the State Military Headquarters or straight to prison. Not here."

"Where are we, Fu--" he muttered to the wet grass, and banged his head on the ground for almost mistaking Edward for someone else.

"A few miles south, at Wyatt's house," Edward said distastefully, not noticing Roy banging his head on the ground. "Armstrong came by before he dragged us here. He looked fully recovered from that drug, and took Riza back to the military's headquarters," he looked uneasily at the two patio doors that were beside him. "Joseph's here too. I don't know how they..."

"What?" Roy grumbled, finally standing. There were grass stains on his elbows and knees and his clothes were soaked. "Joseph's here," Edward repeated. Roy rubbed his head and groaned. "Where is he?" he asked.

Edward looked back to his canvas. "Wyatt has him. He's forcing him to paint upstairs."

"Joseph can...paint?" Roy said, his face blank. Edward sighed. "He can, to an extent. The only problem is that he keeps on painting future events," he said, staring at the grass. "Even if he tries to paint somebody or something, there's always a clue that sticks out."

Roy frowned. By the expression on Edward's face, it wasn't very good that he was painting. "You don't believe me, do you?" Edward asked, when he saw Roy's frown. "Well, I'll tell you something then. You remember that portrait I did of the Elric brothers for Winry?"

Roy nodded, and he continued, "I painted that picture while I was at the Rockbells, some time before Emma Lee was born. I hadn't seen Joseph for about two years. Well, when I was kicked out," he hesitated, and Roy got the feeling that it wasn't a very pleasant memory. "I went back home, where Joseph was. Wyatt was forcing him to paint again, and he painted one of somebody being stabbed--"

"That's in the book," Roy interrupted, and Edward's face lit up. "Yes! You saw it?" he asked and Roy nodded. _In fact, _he thought pathetically, _Riza still might have that book..._

"Did you notice the portrait in the background?" Edward asked, and he nodded again. "Joseph had painted that two years ago, a year before I painted that portrait..."

"So the painting he did foretold the murder?" Roy tempted fate and asked. Edward sighed. "I suppose, that's how Wyatt saw it. I don't really know what his relationship was with Colin and Cobin. Joseph might know though, but I doubt he'd tell anyone. He's traumatized of the man."

"You said he was upstairs?" Roy asked. Edward raised his eyebrows at him. "There's guards at the doors, all of them, some are alchemists, the others have these funny stun guns."

Roy raised an eyebrow at him, smiling. "How come there's none out here?"

Edward shrugged. "I guess since I can't get past the surrounding electric wall anyway they didn't bother."

"Your auto..." Roy muttered, then stopped himself, slapping his forehead. This was not Edward Elric! This is Edward Spruce! _Spruce!!!_

"Colonel?" Edward looked at him curiously.


	14. Memory 14

My hand was shaking, making zigzag strokes along the canvas. I had the rough image of the landscape outside the window in front of me, that foul-smelling man peering over my shoulder, watching my every stroke. I was in a nervous sweat and bit my lip. My mind went instantly to my elder brother, who they had left in the front yard to paint. Suddenly, my hand jerked. My brush stroke, once intended to be the outline of a tree, formed the shape of an E.

Wyatt Moore hummed thoughtfully behind me. I supposed he thought it to be another one of my "predictions". "We'll be keeping your brother a little longer, hmm?" It was a rhetorical question. I lifted my brush away from the painting, as to not completely mess it up. My hand jittered, splattering tiny dots of black paint onto the bottom of the painting. The grass was now spotted black.

I knew not to think of my brother again and tried to keep my mind blank. _The Lieutenant looked a lot like my mother, _I thought, then cringed. _Wait, don't picture her or you'll paint something!_

Then a feminine sign--an ankh–appeared on the painting. For a second, I thought he hadn't noticed, no reaction, no comment...

"A girl," he said aloud. I fought to keep my mind blank then. My nerves were beginning to tingle, to paralyze themselves. I hoped it would work. That I would make myself pass out.

But it didn't, and once again my body paralyzed, yet I was directing a play.

"Mr. Elric!" called one of the actresses on stage. A small girl, almost six, with blonde curls and in a frilly blue dress. This was her first play. "Your brother's standing behind you. I think they need you at the hospital again!"

I turned, looking through eyes that were not my own. I looked at the gloomy face of who used to be the legendary Fullmetal Alchemist in my world, but in this one, was now a doctor.

_I can't do medical work. _I let him know. My head nodded, and I stood up. All my actions were his actions. _Nice to see you again, Joseph. I'm surprised my soul transfer lasted this long! _He was almost amused. _It may take some effort this time, but I'll let you go. I can see things aren't going well in your world._

A flash of light brought me back to my body, as did a most unwelcome headache. My nerves relaxed, as I opened my eyes. I was startled to find Colonel Mustang smiling at me.

"Seems you've recovered," he said, and stood up. He walked a few steps to the entrance of the alley we appeared to be in.

"How did you get me out?"

He stared out at the dark rain as it splattered on the cobblestone road. "Your collapse was quite a distraction."

"And Edward?" I asked, but didn't wait for a reply. "He stayed as a diversion?"

"Hmm," the colonel turned around, his expression calm, but pity deep in his eyes. I personally wondered how he could pull off the expression. Many actors never could. "We need all the information you have to give, Joseph," was all he said.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, Joseph."

_That's like asking me to spill my guts!_

"Roy!" Lieutenant Hawkeye appeared at the opening of the alley, in full uniform. She lowered her gun. "Goodness, you frightened me."

Colonel Mustang seemed to ignore her. He was still waiting. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. "I--uh, painted an image for my sister's book--"

"With the Elric brothers portrait in the background," the colonel nodded for me to continue. The water pouring down the wall on which I was leaning was soaking my clothes, and I managed, with much pain from strained nerves, to stand. "The man from the painting, not my brother, the other one. He's a State Military police officer that transferred here a few years ago, Brandon Lord," I stopped, but neither seemed to recognize the name. "He taught my brother, Anthony, Colin and Cobin how to paint better, I guess," I paused, remembering the play Alphonse Elric had been directing at the time--Julius Caesar, even though it had nothing to do with it.

"Then the story played out," Colonel Mustang said suddenly. Lieutenant Hawkeye smiled, her exhausted face showing some relief. "The teacher goes to kill his star pupil, so Anthony will take his place. Only, the Ashmore brothers became aware of his plan, so they fall for the trap set up for Edward," the Lieutenant said wearily. I could only nod, and wipe dripping water form my eyes.

"And the purpose for drugging Major Armstrong?" the Colonel asked either of us.

"I--I..." I stammered. I was getting cold. I couldn't tell whether I had only noticed them, our if there were a sudden drop in temperature. Either way, I was shivering. "...wanted you to find the letter to Winry. It was hidden with the drug."

The Colonel frowned. "Why didn't you show me?"

"I thought I would lead you to it indirectly but--" my eyes lowered to the ground. The cobblestones were less intimidating. "I panicked, sir."

The Colonel turned away and out to the street. "I'm sorry, sir," I said to his back, as Lieutenant Hawkeye put away her gun and walked towards me. "We'll let you go back to Risembool with Mrs. Spruce," she said quietly, and I followed her out of the alley.

"Mrs. Spruce?" I repeated. I only knew my mother went by that name.

"She told us about the letter," the Lieutenant replied in a whisper. "She and your brother were married before the letter was received, only they never made it public, especially with the threat the letter contained."

When we were out on the street, a horse-drawn carriage was waiting. Winry stood beside the carriage door, an umbrella in hand. She looked about to cry. When she saw me, the umbrella dropped and she ran to me. Then she did cry.

"I'm sorry, Joseph," she choked. "They've been trying to get Edward out of there, but they can't--"

I couldn't say anything. An image of the stressed-out elder Elric flashed through my mind. Life must be so hard on them. What could a 12-year-old possibly say?

_Brother will make it, he always does._

I repeated the words, a silly smile on my face. She looked at me with a pale face, then she beamed and laughed. "You do remind me of Alphonse!" she exclaimed, and hugged me. _I am Alphonse! _came an awkward thought and I laughed. Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye were smiling to. I began to feel warm just as my nerves froze and again I saw Edward Elric's face, only this time it knew that it had performed a miracle, the patient had lived! A relieved grin filled the heartfelt eyes, making me feel even warmer inside.

The only shiver I received from the cold was that my brother was still trapped with that foul-smelling man.

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**A/N: I'm sorry if I confused anyone. I felt the need to jump into the eyes of this particular character, for the events couldn't be readily explained through Roy's eyes. This is assuming that Joseph was in Central when he was around eleven years of age, during the time of the movie. An accidental transfer of a part of Alphonse's soul into Joseph that happened to stay permanently explains why his 12-year-old mind can sometimes appear to be more like an adult.**


	15. Blank Days 15

**As for another chapter. I'm trying to get back into the characters, I think they've been acting a bit strangely in the other chapters, I'm not sure, it just feels odd (referring to the ones actually from Fullmetal Alchemist).**

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The night was dark and the full moon light almost completely hidden by the dark clouds that poured down a heavy rain. Roy walked along the street, Riza close behind him to his left. He didn't bother putting his hood up and instead allowed the rain to soak his already tired face. He looked behind him and saw Riza shiver from the cold. He took off his jacket and handed it to her. She took it, reluctantly. 

"Are you sure you won't catch cold?" she asked, dumping the water that had gathered in the hood. "I'm used to it," he replied, and stopped at a corner, peering down the street to his right in the four-way intersection. In the distance, the carriage carrying Winry and Joseph disappeared around a far corner.

He turned to speak to Riza, but when he did, he jumped, and then shielded his unpatched eye from the rain. He hadn't recognized Riza at first, her face dark under the hood. "Something wrong?" she asked. He shook his head, and decided not to say anything, but continue walking. According to what Riza had told him, Master Sergeant Fuery and 2nd Lieutenant Havoc were reportedly on their way east. They were to meet them at a small shop just outside of the town that was near the train station. But, without a map, the two were lost in the streets, only knowing the way to the train station on the opposite side of town, where they hoped to obtain a map for the town and its outskirts.

They found a train station after a few hours of walking in the dark rain, just as a loud whistle announced an incoming train. They wandered around until they spotted a map posted by a bulletin board. "We're lost," Riza said to herself, blinking to rid her eyelashes of the clinging raindrops. The map didn't have the train station they were originally heading to, or thought they were at, labeled on the map anywhere. They were in the station on Burnsbury Rd, not Greenville.

"I'm going to ask for directions," Riza said, intending to ask the ticket salesmen. She hesitated when Roy looked like he was about to reply, but he said nothing, so she went to ask.

A familiar train slid to a stop beside the platform. It was a military train. Roy smirked to himself as he heard Riza go quiet while talking to a ticket salesman. She apologized, excused herself, and then returned to Roy. "You knew this station received military trains," she muttered glumly, and Roy just smiled. It was nice to see her make mistakes—once in awhile.

The doors opened and military personnel began to slowly walk off the train. Among them was Kain Fuery, seemingly intimidated by the crowd, he was clutching a full-grown, medium-sized dog clumsily in his arms. The dog licked his face as he stepped down off the train, almost causing him to trip and fall on the platform. He managed to stable himself on the platform, then let the dog down, keeping a hold of his leash. Roy tried not to laugh aloud, but smiled contently as the dog suddenly took off, dragging Fuery behind him, straight to Riza.

Riza pet Black Hayate and took the leash from Fuery, and asked why the dog was brought along. Roy ignored them and watched for the second expected personnel. Then a loud banging noise was heard on the train, then a lot of loud cursing between two people, and then slowly, staggering a little, Havoc appeared at the train doors. He stepped off the train with a suitcase in hand a second before the door was slammed angrily behind him. His expression was dazed, possibly from lack of sleep, and a cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. His zombie-like right hand was trying to light a match, unsuccessfully.

Roy sighed; it was really a pitiful sight. In the years since the ball where Havoc had been dumped by his first steady girlfriend had been exactly was his name implied, Havoc. He refused to go out with any girl's afterwards, but was alive enough to keep working, and stay in touch with the people he was stuck working with everyday. Of which, Riza, Roy and Fuery were the only ones he could truly stand, and, more often than not, he picked Fuery to join him whenever he needed someone else. He had volunteered for this mission, but still...he had to admit that trying to sleep on a train with those other officers was a living hell.

His anti-socialness showed as a girl who walked by, a past acquaintance, smiled and waved to him. He glanced vaguely at her, seemingly _through_ her, and then waved to Roy, who sighed. "Hey!" he called, pocketing the useless match. "Mind lighting this for me?" he asked, then spotted Riza, who shot him a glare. Black Hayate, in turn, began to growl at him. "Heh," he said meekly to Roy's stern face, "Another time?"

"Come on, we have work to do," Roy muttered, leading the way out of the station. They were close to the exit when Havoc called out, about a few feet behind him, "Do you mind waiting until I get some food? I'm really hungry, and those guys on the train wouldn't give me any."

Roy slumped. Havoc was surely much more reliable when he was still searching for a girlfriend, even though he had more "blank days" as Riza had called them, back then. Fuery offered them a weak grin. "We could get a small bite to eat. It wouldn't slow us down, would it, sir?"

"I suppose not," Roy muttered, his patience with the two lowering by the millisecond. "Get something and we'll eat on the way!"

"I've got a map covering the town," Riza said, appearing beside him suddenly. Oddly, he hadn't noticed her disappear. She held out a large piece of paper. It was obviously made for tourists, because it highlighted all the attractions and places to stay overnight. He scanned the map, and then looked to where Havoc was still trying to decide what to buy. "Hurry it up, Second Lieutenant!" he snapped, and Havoc looked at him, smiled and waved slightly.

"Where are we heading to, sir?" Fuery asked, and Riza pointed out a spot on the map. "Were you not informed?" Riza asked, surprised. Fuery smiled weakly, "I got snatched last minute from fixing a pay phone. He said he'd give me details on the train, but he was continually sleeping or elsewhere."

Roy grumbled under his breath. "Take him outside and fill him in," he said to Riza, then turned to yell to Havoc again. Only the lieutenant wasn't there anymore. Roy looked around, and saw him now at a candy stand, with a hamburger stuck in his mouth, eyeing stands of chocolate. He wondered for a moment how the cigarette still managed to hang out of his mouth. This time, noticing some higher ranked officers nearby, he walked to him and said quietly, "You have enough. Come outside," he said, not looking straight at Havoc. He began to walk away, and then paused. Havoc wasn't following him, so he walked back.

He stared straight into Havoc's blank face and sighed. "Second lieutenant," he growled, his fist coming up to knock him out. Only another fist made contact with the side of Havoc's head and knocked him down. Roy blinked at the attacker. It was a warrant officer, only one he hadn't met before. "That's for stealing my food!" said a deep, grumbling voice from the lean figure and he stalked away.

After a few minutes, Havoc stood up, looking perfectly normal as if nothing had happened. "Outside?" he asked, not waiting for the answer as he walked out. _Note: Okay to punch Havoc during Blank Days. He's too stupid to notice._ Roy smiled to himself. _Wouldn't Riza be disappointed about that? _He thought, remembering when Riza had tried shooting in Havoc's general direction to try to snap him out of his blankness.


	16. Everyday 16

**Sorry, it feels like forever since I've updated. I've had too many tests, and my mind felt convinced to type Colonel Khrushchev or Lieutenant Heterotroph. This is the last chapter too. I'm not great at writing endings, but I hope you like it. I wrote it after finishing a two-day Biology test, so it may not be the best.**

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_Black Hayate must be having a field day_, Roy thought as the medium-sized dog ran away from Fuery's grasp yet again after some new scent. This time it happened to be fresh apricots on display at a small fruit stand. He stood on his back feet, and laid his paws on the edge of the table, sniffing happily and his tail wagging. Fuery went to grab his leash, only he took off to the next fruit stand, looking up at the salesperson from behind a stack of kiwi.

They were miles behind Riza and Havoc, who had went ahead. The last they had seen of them—before they had turned a corner from view—Havoc must have had a blank look. For the third time, Riza smacked him out of it. Roy expected his face to be swollen or really red the next time he saw them.

Fuery was so close to grabbing Black Hayate's leash that he fell face forward when the dog happily pranced away once again, running straight past Roy. He reached out and grabbed the collar in mid-air. The dog whined, then sat pitifully on his bottom, turning its head to look at Roy with innocent eyes.

"Thank you, sir," Fuery said, and Roy walked past him, dragging Black Hayate along behind him. "Sir?" he repeated.

"I can keep a hold of him," Roy said, just as the dog took a run start and tried to run away from him. He tugged the collar back, just enough for the dog to slide back to him. He pointed his finger at the dog's head, and mimicking a gun, said "Bang."

The dog's ears flattened against his head and he whined, lying on the ground. "Up," Roy said, and the dog stood beside him and continued walking. Fuery stood behind them, his mouth wide open. "Are you coming?" Roy inquired, and then heard footsteps running up behind him. "Yes, sorry, sir," Fuery replied weakly.

"Sir!" a small, bright girl called out. She ran in front of them, with a basket of flowers on her arm. "You look like you're doing well today."

"Yes," Roy muttered, and Fuery whispered to him, "We don't have that much money, sir."

"What a cute puppy, can I pet him?" she asked, kneeling down to look at Black Hayate. Just as she reached out her hand, and the dog was ready to move forward to welcome the pet, Roy grumbled, "He bites."

"Oh," the girl backed away, and Black Hayate looked disappointed, if a dog ever could. She disappeared into a nearby alley, and they continued walking. They stopped at a large house and Roy glanced at his map. On it was a large black circle around an address, marked there by a military officer familiar with the area. He glanced around, then stepped up the door, Black Hayate sitting dutifully beside him, and knocked. When there was no immediate response, Fuery spotted a doorbell and pressed it.

The sound of a bell rang through the large house. "Who's here at this hour? Lessons aren't until three!" a loud voice shouted, and the door peeked open. "Military…" he said, blandly.

"Mr. Lord," Roy nodded, "I am Colonel Roy Mustang from…" he cringed when he forgot the name of his military. "Your…" he shook his hand irritated, "neighbouring military," he finally blurted out, and Fuery smiled weakly behind him. "We here on a lead from a murder case that happened in Central's art gallery."

Brandon Lord frowned, his bushy white eyebrows forming a line over two cold, grey eyes. "From Central?" he repeated and before they could say a word, the door was slammed in their face.

"Well, that was a bad approach," Roy grumbled under his breath. Fuery looked baffled. "What now, sir?" he asked.

Roy rang the doorbell again. This time somebody stomped down the stairs. "Leave or I'm calling _our_ military!" he snapped. "I have more than a couple of friends there who would be more than willing to kick you off my doorstep!"

He waited for ten minutes and heard the old man leave the door. After ten minutes, he pressed the doorbell again. He could feel Fuery getting nervous, and handed him Black Hayate's leash. "Stay here," he said, and the door peeked open again. He grabbed the door and forced it open, sliding inside and slamming it behind him. "Mr. Lord," he said to the old man, whose face had turned deadly pale.

"Get out of my house!" he objected, his lips quivering with anger. He took an umbrella out of the rack beside him and used it to steady himself.

"We only need to talk to you about this, Mr. Lord, and if there's any information you'd like to give us—"

"_Get out_!"

"I realize this is a very sensitive issue—"

"Out, now!" he said, and took off into another room. Roy followed and found him holding a phone to his ear, his hand posed to dial. "I'm warning you, Colonel whatshisname, get out!"

Roy's eyes followed the phone cord. It was hooked into the wall right next to where he was standing. The old man began to dial with shaky hands, but when he was finished, the phone didn't make a sound. He looked at it with surprise, and then looked at Roy. In his left hand was the charred edge of a wire. His cold eyes followed the wire straight to the back of his phone.

"Now will you speak with us, Mr. Lord?" Roy inquired.

The old man collapsed to his knees and looked weakly at the floor. Roy went to the front door to let Fuery inside. "Check to be sure there's no one else in the house," Roy whispered to him, and Black Hayate dragged Fuery up the stairs. When he returned, Brandon Lord was still in shock on the floor. Roy helped him up and into a cushioned chair. He threw a log into the fireplace to keep the fire burning, and sat across from him on the couch. _Might as well make him comfortable before he has a nervous breakdown, _he thought, looking at the miserable man.

"Mr. Lord," Roy said, leaning forwards, his hands folded together in front of him. "You happen to recall two of your students, Mr. Anthony and Edward Spruce."

"Ah, Edward and Roland!" Roy blinked in surprise and the old man continued, "My best students! They didn't do anything bad did they?" he said, raising a shaking hand to his forehead. "That certainly wouldn't do."

"Were you in Central at all during the past two weeks," he said, looking around the room. His eyes locked on an envelope on the desk, the only other piece of furniture in the room. He decided to start wandering as he talked, though it seemed to unnerve the man even more, "Perhaps to admire your pupil's paintings?"

He held up a shaking hand. "Once, I gave Roland a short visit, and he showed me one of Edward's portraits, the one of the Elric brothers--such a grand painting, I must tell you, the boy had a talent for painting by description--then I headed straight home."

"So you were in the art gallery, Mr. Lord?" Roy asked, he walked around and appeared to look out the window, but he was looking at the envelope on the desk. He flipped it over, and saw that it was addressed from Anthony. He could hear Fuery trying to convince Black Hayate to slow down in the hallway.

"Yes, wonderful place," he nodded, "I didn't have time to—hey!" he shouted, trying to stand up, but shakily falling back down into the chair. Roy opened the letter that was in the envelope and quietly began reading. "Put that down! That's personal!"

Roy slowly grinned and turned to face him, tucking the letter into his shirt pocket. "It's evidence now, Mr. Lord," he said. "As of now, you're charged for the murder of Colin and Cobin Ashmore."

"Impossible! I didn't do such—"

"Mr. Anthony says the both of you did. Don't worry, you'll be sharing a cell in due time, I'm sure," Roy replied, then called to Fuery and Black Hayate returned the Major Sergeant to him. "Contact Lieutenant Hawkeye, and tell her to come here immediately," he said.

"We don't know where she is, sir," Fuery said weakly and began to look nervous when Roy smiled contently. He leaned over to the dog, looking as menacing as he could, and poked a finger at its head. He whimpered and tried to back away. "Go find Riza," he said loudly, and the dog took off to the door, dragging Fuery behind him. Fuery reluctantly opened it and was dragged along the street.

"Awfully hard on your companions, aren't you?" the old man stammered.

Roy smiled at him. "He'll get a bonus," he said, then added, "The dog's well trained."

The man shuddered and stared at the phone, hoping that by just staring at it, it would work again. Roy sat on the couch across from Mr. Lord and waited.

An hour later, out of boredom, Roy began to uncover more letters that, together, laid out the details of the how and why of the murder. They were after Edward, but the reason was vague. The man had begun sobbing in his chair. Roy only felt a small pity for him, and lamely handed him a tissue.

He was about to hand him a fifth tissue when the doorbell rang. Riza was standing in the doorway, Black Hayate standing loyally beside her. She smiled in relief. "We contacted Armstrong, sir. He has Edward, and they're waiting at the train station."

"And the Major Sergeant?" Roy asked, surprised that the timid man wasn't with her.

"With the Major," she replied sheepishly. "He collapsed from exhaustion," she said, glancing down at Black Hayate, who looked up at her and wagged his tail.

"It seems I need to advise him to a stricter exercise routine," Roy muttered to himself, and Riza shook her head sadly. He walked into the room where he had left Mr. Lord. "Get up, Mr. Lord; we're taking you to Central."

The next two days they spent on the train, and the third at trial, where they were immediately guilty. On the fourth day, Mr. Anthony and Mr. Lord's first day in prison, Roy was awakened by a knock at his door. It was ten o'clock in the morning, he had slept in. He peered down at the doorstep through the living room window. There was no one there.

"Colonel!" came a shout, and Joseph and Emma Lee came running into the room. Roy looked at them strangely. "How did you get in here?" he demanded.

"Colonel," Joseph said, laughing. "We were taught how to find secret passage ways by our parents. Our mom was an architect, our dad a plumber."

"There aren't any secret passageways in my…house…" he paused when he saw the wall suddenly swing open. Edward climbed through, covered with a few cobwebs. "No problem, Roy," he said, shaking his head to get rid of the cobwebs in his hair. "I think we've found them all."

Emma Lee giggled. "Daddy's covered in spider-webs!" she exclaimed, then jumped away from him as he moved closer to her. "Eww! Gross!"

"Why are you here so early?" Roy yawned. He ignored the urge to kick them all out the window. They did have a kid with them.

"Oh," Edward laughed, placing one of the cobwebs on Emma Lee's head, and she screeched. "They're not going to hurt you," he laughed, then turned back to Roy. "Riza's been looking for you, so she asked us to come see if you were here."

"After we told her that we could break in if you tried to lock us out," Joseph added.

Roy felt miserable. He didn't want to go to work, he was too tired! How was it Riza could still wake up that early and work without sleep? "Give me time to get changed," he grumbled, stumbling out of the room, and then locking himself into his bedroom. He collapsed on the bed and fell back asleep.

He was awoken just an hour later by a small voice. "Uncle Joseph, Mr. Mustang is really lazy, isn't he?" then she giggled. "Maybe he's trying to look like Sleeping Beauty!"

Roy groaned. _The kid talks too much…_

"I didn't know Mr. Mustang could act!" she exclaimed. "We should put him in a play, Daddy."

_Now they're all in my room? _Groaning, he looked up slightly, and saw a small opening in the wall. Edward suddenly appeared in his face. "Come on, wake up! You have paperwork to do at work, Colonel."

"Full—"Roy began then sat up. Emma Lee was sitting on the side of his bed, grinning at him.

"Fullmetal's fine," Joseph said and Roy stared at him strangely. "He's a doctor, and happy. He just got engaged two days ago."

Edward rolled his eyes at his brother. "You're in your make-believe world again?" he grumbled. Joseph grinned at him.

Roy arrived at work, feeling more refreshed. One from the walk in cooling fresh air, the second he couldn't really pinpoint. Behind him, Edward, Joseph and Emma Lee disappeared into the art gallery. Roy took a mental note to visit that again when he was off working. He thought maybe just to burn all the paperwork, and then he'd have to wait for them to reproduce it, claiming it was an accident. That should give him some time off!

He smiled to himself at the idea as he entered his office. Riza approached him with a relieved smile. "Good morning, sir," she said, and the two officers behind her, Falman and Fuery, repeated the greeting. "Good to have you back, sir," Falman added.

Roy blinked. He had passed one of his subordinates in the hallway, but where was the other? "Something the matter, sir?" Riza asked.

"Did Jean Havoc sleep in too?" he asked, and, surprisingly, the other three were trying not to laugh. Did he look that unknowing?

"No, sir," Fuery replied, and Riza continued, "He took a few days off, sir."

"What for?" Roy blurted.

"Cecilia Spruce, sir," Riza replied, then walked to the desk, leaving Roy confused. She patted the pile of papers. "Your work, sir," she said quietly.

After doing ten pages of paperwork alone in his office, then getting irritated and burning the remaining forty, he reported the "accident" and left the building. He went straight to the art gallery, stopping only once to pick up some candy. When he entered, a handful of kids surprisingly ran to him. He handed out candy, and continued into the gallery. He spotted the Spruce family, including Winry, in the paint restoration room where Edward was helping out. He gave Emma Lee some candy, which unfortunately was chocolate, and made her extremely hyper. She was bouncing off the walls reciting lines from popular plays in no time. For a moment, Roy thought he was being followed by a traveling play, when Joseph decided to join her.

He stopped by a familiar portrait, and stood beside an old man. "Well, long time no see," the old man chuckled. "My wife missed you the past few days."

"Your wife well, sir?" Roy asked.

The old man sighed. This usually meant bad news. "I'm afraid she passed on just three days ago. We withheld the funeral date," he smiled, closing his eyes slowly, as if remembering something fond to him, "Her last wish was to see you torture those poor artists again," he chuckled. "If you wouldn't mind, she would love to see you at her funeral."

"I'm sorry. I will come. When will it be held?"

"Tomorrow, if that's not too soon. I'm afraid she's invited the whole art gallery public as well," he shook his head, smiling. "So the gallery won't be open anyway."

"Very well," Roy said, and the old man whispered "Thank you," before walking away.

"Back to your old habits again, Roy?" came a bright voice that Roy didn't immediately recognize. When he turned around, he saw Riza smiling at him.

"Flame! Flame!" a small boy ran to him, watched by his mother. "May I have some candy?"

Roy handed him a handful and the boy beamed. "Thank you, sir!" he said, and ran to show what he received to his mother. "You're going to run out," Riza said.

"Then I'll just get more?"

"Good luck," Riza laughed, "People have heard that you came back. The murder case was very popular; more people will plan on visiting the gallery."

Roy did run out before evening came around, and went to get some more. He only had a few left when he left that night, and gave them to Riza, who wouldn't stop laughing at him. Riza joined him for dinner, and Roy paused as he walked into his small kitchen. There was a painting sitting on the counter. Roy recognized the handwriting on the note. _Those brothers got in again!_

"The Spruce brothers left you something?" Riza asked, getting to the painting first. She looked at the note, "It's from Joseph."

Roy took the cloth cover off the painting. In the painting were two very familiar people. One was dressed in everyday clothing, the other like a doctor.

_They're still here, Colonel, _the note said in messy handwriting. _Alphonse always asks how everyone is._ _They're both doing great. Edward's a doctor and engaged, as I've already told you. Alphonse directs plays, and is married. He has a daughter, who, surprisingly, is not much different than Emma Lee. They're both drama queens! My brother couldn't think of away to thank you that was good enough, so he let me paint this. I hope you like it.Joseph._

"Edward a doctor," Riza said, "And Alphonse a theater director. It does sound like something they would do."

"You'd wonder where Edward gained the patience for it," Roy smirked, and then smiled contently, remembering something Edward Spruce had said. "Joseph does live in his own world. Do you remember the kind old woman from the gallery?"

Riza blinked. "Yes. Her husband invited everyone he recognized to come to her funeral. Are you going?"

"I think so," Roy smiled smugly. "I think she'd like a good laugh." Riza tried not to laugh aloud. "I don't want to know," she paused, then started browsing through the kitchen.

"Lieutenant?" Roy blinked, watching her awkwardly as she brought out various foods and utensils. She smiled, raising her eyebrows. "We have to _eat_, sir."


End file.
